


Christmas in Storybrooke

by searchingwardrobes



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers trope, High Risk Pregnancy, Premature Birth, also some angst, cancelled flight trope, family christmas trope, hallmark type christmas story, henry deals with crap he's been through, i.e. snowed in trope, smalltown christmas trope, things got more angsty than expected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 05:09:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16804243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: Henry Mills has a bad feeling about bringing his best friend EJ home for Christmas. Not because he wants to leave her all alone at Christmas when her flight home gets cancelled. He just doesn't want her to know the truth about his very odd town and even odder family.Basically a hallmark movie where Character A gets snowed in in Character B's quirky small hometown, but with magic.





	1. I'll Be Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> So I started this alternate season 7 au a while back that was a disastrous hot mess. I mean, I was embarrassed by its existence. So I deleted it, thinking I would maybe rework it later. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the only part of it I liked was Henry's love interest. I like the idea of Henry being firmly in the "real world" and having a woman in his life who has no fairy tale background whatsoever. That way, you can have the hilarious reveal of: "yeah, I know it seems crazy, but my grandparents are Snow White and Prince Charming, my adoptive mother is the Evil Queen, my stepdad is Captain Hook, my other grandparents are Princess Belle and Rumplestiltskin, and my aunt is the Wicked Witch of the West. Surprise!" And that's when I thought of a meet the family kind of Hallmark Christmas fic.

It wasn’t the cold seeping through the edge of the poorly insulated windows in his tiny New York City apartment that alerted Henry Mills to the severe winter storm sweeping across five states. It wasn’t the weather reports on TV or the alert on his phone. No, Henry found out about Winter Storm Fisher when his best friend and neighbor came stomping into his apartment. Just entering his apartment wasn’t sufficient, however. No, she burst into his bedroom, startling him awake. She was a petite, auburn tornado of irritation; a burst of fiery temper in his freezing apartment.

“My flight was cancelled!” she shouted, pacing his room agitatedly. “Did you hear me, Henry? Cancelled!”

“Um,” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes wearily, “yeah, EJ, I heard.”

“Well, why are you still sitting there doing nothing?”

“Because I’m only wearing my boxers.” It was way too early for a scene this bizarre. It wasn’t as if EJ didn’t come over unannounced on a regular basis; she did. She'd just never marched straight into his bedroom at . . . 6 am. 

“Then get dressed and help me fix this mess!” She stood there, still in her pajamas, her arms crossed and her foot tapping his bedroom floor. Her auburn hair was in a messy pile on top of her head, and she hadn’t yet put on makeup. He knew this because her freckles were more pronounced, and her light eyelashes made the blue ring around her irises seem darker. Or perhaps it was her anger. EJ’s eyes were the most fascinating mystery Henry had encountered in this city. Her license said they were hazel, but that didn’t really do them justice. Besides the unique ring of blue, they were a dark hunter green with flecks of gold. In short, they defied classification.

Henry gestured at EJ before swinging his legs over the side of the bed, but she just challenged him with an arch of her brows. He sighed as he flung the sheets aside. So apparently their friendship had reached this level of comfort; her seeing him in nothing but his underwear. As he opened his drawer for a pair of jeans, EJ turned and headed for the living room, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. The news anchor was talking about the hundreds of flights that were cancelled up and down the east coast. EJ gave a small whimper as she collapsed on the couch. Once he was dressed, Henry came up behind her and rested his hands sympathetically on her shoulders. 

“Daddy had tickets this year to see the lights at Lake Lanier,” EJ told him in a quiet voice, her southern accent coming out stronger than normal, “and Mama and I were going to make fudge. She was waiting for me to do it. And my sister and I were going to take her kids to ride the pink pig at Lenox Mall.”

“The pink pig?”

EJ chuckled even as her eyes welled up with tears. “It’s a thing in Atlanta. I don’t know why; don’t ask.”

Henry came around the couch to plop down next to her. She collapsed against his chest, and he put his arms around her. “The airports will open back up. You can get another flight.”

But that didn’t seem likely when the meteorologist began explaining his weather map. A second front was set to come in directly behind the first, larger and stronger. This one was named Gia. 

“It’s only four days until Christmas, Henry,” she whispered, “let’s face it, I’m stuck here.” 

He didn’t quite know what to say. He himself wouldn’t want to be all alone in the city away from his family at Christmas, but for EJ he knew it was worse. Her family was a lot farther away, and driving down through several states all in the grips of a severe winter storm wasn’t possible for her. And he couldn’t think of anyone who did Christmas bigger than EJ’s family. EJ herself had decorated her apartment the week _before_ Thanksgiving, had started baking around the same time, and had been blaring Christmas music 24/7 despite the complaints of grumpy Mr. Gregory and the constant pounding of his broomstick in the apartment above her. She had been talking about the Christmas traditions of her family for weeks now, and he knew nothing could have devastated her more than missing this trip. 

_Get dressed and do something_ she had said to him. But what could he do? He was perfectly capable of killing bugs for her (she had an intense fear of cockroaches), cleaning out the vent above her stove when the thing started smoking, and watering her plants when she was out of town for work. It was part of the reason they had exchanged keys. But unless he could get a magic bean to work in the Land Without Magic so he could contact Queen Elsa, there was little he could do about a snow storm. 

Oh, and not to mention the fact that EJ knew nothing about that part of his life. The magic beans, curses, Disney princesses are real part. Which meant he also couldn’t invite her to Storybrooke for Christmas either. He’d have to load up his car later that afternoon and leave her here in a lonely New York City apartment, probably listening to Josh Groban crooning _I’ll Be Home_ _For_ _Christmas_ while she wept into her hot cocoa. Oh wait, she couldn’t do that either because he had gotten her addicted to the way only Henry Mills could make hot cocoa. Her words. 

His phone rang, and Henry extricated himself from EJ’s limbs. She absentmindedly leaned over and started sorting through the Christmas cards on his coffee table as he stood to take the call. His screen said _Mom-Emma,_ and he smiled as he swiped his thumb across it.

“Hey kid,” she said happily, “you packed yet? Cause I’m hearing stuff about a big storm coming -”

There was some mumbling and a shuffling noise, and then his stepfather’s voice was on the line. “This old pirate can feel it in his bones, lad. This storm will get worse before it gets better. Your mom and I would feel better if you were already heading out.”

“Well, good morning to both of you, too,” Henry chuckled. 

Killian laughed in response, “I know, I know, you’re a grown man now.”

There was shuffling again, and Henry thought her heard a snap to his mother’s voice. “Killian Jones,” she admonished in the background, “I don’t care how old he is, I don’t want his car wrapped around a tree.” There was a muffled sound and his mother was back on the line. “Henry, it isn’t that I’m trying to be overprotective -”

“No, it’s okay Mom,” he assured her, “I know it just means you care. And Killian’s right, I should get going soon.” He looked over at the couch where EJ was slumped. She was holding the Christmas card of his mom and Killian with his little sisters and brother. Her thumb ran over the images of the children, and he couldn’t help thinking of the day they had gone shopping together to buy toys for her nieces and nephews. He let out a sad sigh. 

“Henry, is something wrong?” his mom asked. 

He moved across the apartment to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. “EJ’s here. Her flight to Atlanta got cancelled because of the storm, and she’s really upset. I hate that she’ll be here alone while I’m with family in Storybrooke.”

“Then bring her along,” Emma said without hesitation.

“What?”

“You heard me. It’s not like Regina doesn’t have the space. And there’s that big party every year at Granny’s on Christmas Eve, and the snow carnival tomorrow. She'll have a lot of fun. It’ll at least keep her mind off home.’

“Mom, are you crazy? She knows nothing about what Storybrooke . . . is. How am I supposed to explain the Jolly Roger to her? What if Hope, Charlie, and Leia decide to bring their snowman to life like last year? What if Lily and her mom decide to go for a flight? Oh god – when’s the next full moon? If Ruby -”

“Henry please, everyone will be . . . discreet. We can put a cloaking spell on the Jolly Roger, and I will give the kids a stern talking to. Are you really going to let her spend Christmas all alone?”

Henry ran a hand through his hair. “She can get another flight once the storm passes.”

“Killian says there’s worse weather on the way. He has an uncanny sixth sense about these things, you know.” He could hear a slight tremble in her voice as she spoke again. “Your stepdad and I know what it’s like to spend holidays alone. Don’t do that to her.”

Henry ran his hand over his chin. He was still nervous, but he knew his mother was right. “Okay,” he told her, “but I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Sure you do, Han Solo,” his mother chuckled. “I’m telling you, it’ll be fine, kid.”

“You’re probably right. See you tonight, mom.”

“See you.”

He hung up and walked back into the living room. EJ still held the photo card in her hand, but she was staring blankly at the TV where Christmas tree Reese’s cups danced across the screen. He cleared his throat, and she turned to look at him. Her cheeks were stained with the tracks of her tears. He knew she must be really upset if she wasn’t trying to rub them away.

“My mom just invited you to have Christmas with us,” he told her. “My birth mom, I mean. Emma. And Killian. My stepdad. They both want you to come.” He shuffled his feet as he stumbled over the words. God, could it sound like a more hesitant invitation? Killian would chastise him for his bad form 

Sure enough, EJ’s brow wrinkled. “They offered?”

He nodded, forcing a smile. “Of course. My mom hated the idea of you being away from family on Christmas.”

She looked back down at the Christmas card in her hand. “Christmas just isn’t the same without kids, you know.”

He sat down next to her. “Yeah, I know what you mean. “ 

She turned to him finally and smiled. “Do you think your little sisters and little brother will like me?”

He grinned broadly at her. “I know they will.”

She squealed then and threw her arms around him. He was happy that she was happy, really he was, but he was also nervous. Because the question wasn’t if Hope, Charlie, and Leia would like EJ or not – everyone loved EJ. The question was, would the little pirates behave themselves?


	2. Home for the Holidays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably obvious, but I just wanted to make it clear that this fic ignores season seven, including that wonky timeline. So Hope was born only about a year and a half after season six, making her ten years old here, and only a bit younger than Neal, Robyn, and Gideon.

“What’s the name of your hometown, again?”

Henry looked over to the passenger’s seat where EJ was squinting down at her phone. “Storybrooke.” He squirmed in his seat. He knew what she was going to say. 

“Well, according to Google, it doesn’t exist.”

Henry palmed his neck. “Well, you know, I told you it’s a tiny town in the middle of nowhere.”

She tilted her head at him, her phone falling to her lap. “There’s no town so small Google can’t find it, Henry.”

“Well, apparently, you’re wrong.” He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but he was already weary of everything he couldn’t tell her, and they weren’t even there yet. 

“Fine,” she snapped a she rolled her eyes, “so how close are we?”

“Not far. We should be there in about fifteen or twenty minutes.” His phone rang, and when he glanced down to look at the screen, it said _Mom-Regina._ Since Maine had a hands-free law, he pulled over so he could answer it. Luckily, they were just pulling up to a gas station. 

Henry parked and then quickly answered the call. EJ motioned that she was going inside, and he nodded, relief flooding him that he didn’t have to go out of his way to hide this phone call from her like so many other things. 

“Mom!” he said into the phone “We’re almost there.”

“That’s great, Henry, I can’t wait to see you.”

Henry frowned at the hesitance in his mother’s voice. “Is something wrong?”

Regina sighed. “I’m so sorry, Henry, but you and EJ can’t stay with us. The pipes in this house are older than I realized, and some of them burst in the freeze last night. There’s water everywhere, and it won’t be fixed and cleaned up until after Christmas. We’re staying at Granny’s until then. I’m so sorry.”

Henry ran a hand through his hair and stifled a groan. “It’s okay, Mom, it isn’t your fault.” He didn’t like the idea of putting EJ up at Granny’s. There was no telling what she might stumble into without him running interference, but what choice did he have?

“Hook said he and Emma have everything ready for both of you,” Regina told him. 

“They only need to get my old room ready. I’ll get EJ set up at Granny’s.”

“You can’t do that, I’m afraid. There isn’t a single vacancy left. I’m crammed into one room with Zelena and Robyn.” The snark in her voice at that last statement made Henry wonder how the three of them would make it until Christmas without killing each other. 

“But how is that possible? She’s always got rooms.”

“It’s Christmas, Henry. And now that an entire generation of kids have grown up and had families of their own, there are a lot of out of town guests.”

Out of realm guests was more like it. Henry was the only child raised in Storybrooke who lived in the Land Without Magic. Everyone else who had “moved away” had used magic beans to either go back home or explore other realms. EJ would be the only person in the entire town who had no fairy tale connections. Which explained why he felt a migraine coming on. 

“Mom, I can’t take EJ to mom and Killian’s house!” He saw the woman herself step out of the convenience store with a cup of coffee in her hand, and he turned his back and lowered his voice as he stepped away from his car. “Charlie and Leia haven’t learned to control their magic yet, not to mention they’re six and have no filter.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” his mother sighed with genuine sympathy, “but there just aren’t any other options. Snow and Charming offered the farm, but if that storm blows in, you could be stuck out there.”

Henry rubbed his face wearily. His mothers, his siblings, even Killian would be so disappointed if they missed being with him on Christmas. “You’re right,” he finally said, “we’ll make it work.”

“I can always do a memory potion if something goes wrong.”

“No way,” Henry snapped, his fist clenching unconsciously at the mere thought, “you are not messing with her head, and that’s final.”

“I’m only trying to help,” Regina said with a defensive edge to her voice. 

“I know,” he sighed. His mother loved him, and she had changed, but she still sometimes could be a little too pragmatic when it came to using her magic. It was something he had accepted, but it still rubbed him the wrong way sometimes and dredged up bad memories from his childhood.

“I love you,” she said quietly, as if she could read his thoughts.

“I know that too, Mom,” he said in a gentler voice. “I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

He counted to ten silently as he walked back to the car. How could he be this stressed when they hadn’t even gotten there yet? 

********************************************************

Twenty minutes later, he and EJ were maneuvering their suitcases up the porch stairs at his mom 

and Killian’s house. They hadn’t even made it to the top step when his siblings came barreling out the front door. 

“Henry,” Charlie chattered, tugging on his arm, “wait till you see what I built with my Legos! It’s like a B-wing Tie-fighter combo! I made it up all by myself! I used three different sets!”

Leia launched herself from the top of the porch and onto Henry’s back. “We gotta go riding Henry before the snow comes. Grampa said Buttercup likes me best, and Grandma said I’m a better rider than she ever was, and Daddy says you’d be really proud. Did you really learn to jump? Mommy and Daddy say I’m too small, but can you show me? Please, please, please!!”

She squeezed his neck so hard, he almost choked, and EJ laughed. Hope meanwhile had wrapped her lanky arms around his waist, and he was shocked to see that her head reached his chest. When had she gotten so tall? “I missed you,” she whispered. Then she peered around him to gaze at EJ with her big blue eyes. “Is she your girlfriend?” The second part wasn’t whispered as softly as the first, and EJ immediately blushed. 

“This doesn’t look like helping them with their bags,” a voice called from the doorway. It was deep and slightly stern, though Henry knew it had little bite. He had heard Captain Hook bark orders, and this wasn’t it. Henry smiled as he stepped forward to greet his stepfather. The man grinned broadly, crows’ feet wrinkling at his eyes, and he pulled Henry into a hearty embrace. 

Henry’s siblings scrambled to do their father’s bidding. Charlie tugged adorably at the handle of EJ’s suitcase as he walked backwards through the door. Hope skillfully brought Henry’s inside, and Leia grunted as she shouldered his bag, leaning sideways with its weight. 

“Take those upstairs, kiddos,” Emma called from her spot on the living room couch. Henry paused in the foyer, his brow creasing at his mother’s stationary position. She may have been eight months pregnant, but that had never stopped her from anything in the past. Before he could express any worry, she flung aside the afghan draped over her lap, and struggled to a standing position with a joyous smile on her face. “Henry!” she exclaimed, stretching her arms out towards him. 

“Sit down, love,” Killian admonished gently, “the lad will come to you.”

“Um, what’s going on?” Henry asked in confusion as Killian rushed to his mother’s side. 

Emma gave him a quick hug, then let her husband aid her in settling back onto the sofa. She waved her hand dismissively. “There was no sense in worrying you.”

Henry crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. “Well, I’m worrying right now.”

“You look just like your Grandpa when you do that,” Emma laughed. 

“Preeclampsia,” Killian explained, “high blood pressure. She’s on bed rest until the baby comes.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “ _Modified_ bed rest. And it’s really just because I’m an old woman having a baby.”

“Darling, if you’re old, I’ve got one foot in the grave,” Killian teased. 

Emma slapped him in the chest, “You’re not allowed to make jokes like that, Killian Jones, and you know it!”

He chuckled and bent to kiss his wife’s forehead, “Forgive me, love, I wasn’t thinking.”

“They, uh, have a lot of inside jokes,” Henry attempted to explain as he shrugged at EJ.

“My apologies, lass,” Killian said, putting his prosthetic hand to his heart, “I haven’t properly introduced myself nor given you a proper welcome, and that is bad form indeed. Killian Jones, at your service.”

As Killian took EJ’s hand and kissed it, Henry wasn’t sure if the blush tinging her cheeks was from his stepfather’s over the top gentility or his charm, but either way, Henry was inexplicably bothered by it. 

“It’s nice to meet you, sir, I’m EJ Crawford.”

Killian’s eyebrows rose. “Sir. Did you hear that, Swan? Where do you hail from, lass, that you have such rare manners?” 

EJ shrugged. “Atlanta. It’s ingrained to say _sir_ and _ma’am_ down there. Unfortunately, some people in New York take offense at it.”

“Well, that’s their lack of breeding, not yours. And EJ is an awfully small name for such a lovely woman, wouldn’t you say, Emma?”

“Killian, would you stop trying to charm her to death?” Emma leaned forward as best she could with her pregnant stomach and offered EJ her hand. “And I’m Henry’s mother, Emma.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” EJ said as she shook it. Then she turned back to Killian. “And actually, I agree with you, sir. My name is actually Evangeline, and to be honest, I hate being called EJ.”

“You never told me that!” Henry exclaimed. 

EJ – Evangeline – shrugged. “You never asked. When you work for the FBI, they like to make you one of the guys, you know? Like you can’t be tough without some masculine nickname.”

“Now here’s a girl after my own heart,” Emma laughed, patting the couch next to her. 

“But I don’t work with you at the FBI,” Henry argued as he took the loveseat by the Christmas tree, “why didn’t you say anything?”

Evangeline – that was going to take some getting used to – lowered her gaze to her lap. “I don’t know. I was engaged to Josh at the time, and he called me EJ. By the time we broke up, you were already calling me that so . . . “ she trailed off and shrugged again. 

“But if you hate it . . .” he took a deep breath as his stepfather gave him a pointed look, “what do you prefer to be called?”

She finally lifted her gaze to his. “My family calls me Evie, so either Evie or Evangeline would be good.” 

Henry nodded and gave her a tender smile. ”Okay . . . Evie.”

Killian bowed his head to her graciously. “Lady Evangeline.”

Evie bit her lower lip as if she were holding back a giggle. 

“You’ll get used to him,” Emma chuckled.

Henry’s siblings suddenly bounded down the stairs. Leia leapt onto Henry’s lap, causing him to grunt at the impact of her petite form. Charlie held a Lego creation carefully in his hands, his thick black hair falling in his eyes as he navigated the bottom step. He beamed at Henry with a gap-toothed smile as he approached, hands outstretched. Henry took it carefully, praising the child’s imagination and ingenuity. Hope plopped down on the floor in front of her mother with a hairbrush in her hand. Emma took it and began working the tangles out of the girl’s long blonde hair. 

“All the bags are in Henry’s old room, just like you said,” Hope told her mother.

Emma looked up at Henry and then Evie with an apologetic look. “The guest room’s already been renovated into a nursery, so we had to put you both up in the attic. The guest bed is up there along with Henry’s old futon, so you’ll both have your own place to sleep. And you’ll probably prefer sharing a bathroom just with Henry, Evie, instead of these three slobs.”

“Hey!” Hope protested, leaning her head back to look up at her mom, “I’m clean. It’s those two who stink up the place!”

“We don’t stink!” protested Leia

“We kind of do,” Charlie admitted, causing the adults to chuckle and his twin to stick her tongue out at him. 

“Well,” Emma announced, setting aside the brush and kissing hope on the top of her head, “it’s time for you all to head to bed.”

All three children groaned, and Killian lifted his hand to stop their whining. “You heard your mother. You have a big day tomorrow with the Snow Festival, and maybe going riding out at the farm.”

Leia leapt up from Henry’s lap, her dark curls bouncing. “Really? We get to go riding?”

Killian smiled and nodded, “Yes, princess, as long as the weather holds.”

At that, Leia squealed and gave hugs all around, even to Evie, then she darted up the stairs as if going to bed would make morning come sooner. Hope followed after giving good night hugs to her parents and to Henry. Charlie was last to head upstairs, still carefully cradling his Lego spaceship. Once they were gone, Henry sagged a bit in the loveseat. One day with his siblings down with no mishaps. Only five more to go.

**********************************************

When Henry exited the bathroom, Evie was already in bed. Her long auburn hair had been

brushed and was tumbling over one shoulder, tied in a loose side ponytail. Her face was scrubbed clean, her freckles dark against her pink cheeks. Evie’s freckles weren’t like his mom’s. She had far more than a light dusting across her nose. Instead, her face was a riot of freckles. Incredibly adorable freckles, in Henry’s opinion. She sat propped up in bed with several pillows, a book in her hands. 

“What are you reading now?” he asked her. 

She arched a brow at him. “Are you going to tease me again for reading YA lit?”

He raised both hands in defense. “No way, Not again. I was just curious.”

“ _Forest Born_ ,” she told him, “it’s the last one in _The Books of Bayern_ series.”

Henry nodded, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “Is this okay?” he finally blurted out.

She tilted her head in confusion. “Is what okay?”

“Staying here,” he said, gesturing around with his hands.

She seemed to be stifling a grin. “You mean . . . is this house okay? Your family? Because the answer is yes and yes. More than okay. This house is quaint and homey, and your family is funny and sweet. Especially the kids.”

He shuffled his feet. “That’s good, but . . . I mean . . . I also wondered . . . “

Evie rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh God, Henry, you’re ridiculous. So we’re sharing a room – big deal! We’re both adults, and there are two beds for God’s sake. You think I haven’t been in more awkward situations on some of my cases?”

Henry rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t like to think too much about situations she found herself in with her job. It wasn’t just the FBI thing. Evie was part of their new task force to combat human trafficking. To say it was dangerous work was an understatement. Evie, however, took his silence in the completely wrong way. She tossed aside her book and crossed her arms protectively.

“Do you not want me here?”

His gaze snapped to hers, and he was surprised as he so often was to see such hesitancy in her gaze. Evie was a study in contradictions if there ever was one, and it was constantly making his head spin. In some ways, she was tough; she had to be with her job. But there was a softness and a vulnerability to her as well. And fear. Of what, he wasn’t sure, but he saw it in her eyes at times. 

This was one of those times. 

“Of course I want you here,” he assured her, sinking to the bed and taking her hand. “I’m sorry if I’ve been a jerk today -”

“Yeah, you have.”

He shook his head at her teasing grin. “It’s not you. It’s my family. This town. I’m worried you might . . . never look at me the same after this trip.”

He bit his lip. It was the most honest thing he’d told her since he invited her here. 

She leaned forward and patted his cheek. “Not possible. I’ve seen dysfunctional families. I’ve seen crazy-ass towns. The South sort of specializes in those. I mean, have you ever read Faulkner? Flannery O’Connor? Bat-shit crazy, Henry.”

He managed to laugh, even though he knew she didn’t really have clue what she’d gotten herself into. She settled back onto her pillows. 

“I doubt anything here will shock me.”

Henry swallowed nervously. Those sounded dangerously like famous last words.   



	3. White Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Did you see the chapter count? I outlined the whole thing and was shocked to discover that this thing will be 13 chapters (though chapter 13 will be an epilogue). I probably won't finish by Christmas, even with updating this every other day, but hopefully it will be completed by New Years. Thanks for everyone who is following this Henry-focused story!  
> * In this canon divergence, I am only ignoring season 7 (obviously). In this version, it doesn't take CS as long to have Hope. She's born when Henry is about 15 or 16, making her only a few years younger than Neal. Neal is 13 here, Robyn and Gideon are 12, and Hope is 10.

Henry rolled over on the lumpy futon, groaning and arching his back. How had ever slept on this thing as a teenager? Across the room, Evie was still asleep in the bed from the old guest room. She was on her side, one pillow under her head and a second one clutched to her chest. Her brow was furrowed and her fists clenched, and he wondered not for the first time why her body was always so coiled and tense in sleep. She seemed to be so steady most of the time, so unfazed by the rough nature of her work. Did she keep it all bottled inside?

He threw his blankets aside, also casting off such melancholy thoughts about Evie. Maybe she just couldn’t relax in an unfamiliar place while she was missing her family. He pulled a sweatshirt on over his undershirt, put some thick socks on his feet, and padded down the cold hardwood stairs to the second floor. It was quiet there, but he could hear voices drifting up from the ground floor along with the sounds of someone working in the kitchen. Sure enough, he found his siblings scurrying around the kitchen while his stepfather stirred a pan of scrambled eggs at the stove. A timer dinged, and Killian smoothly pushed the pan off the hot burner and opened the oven door to pull out a pan of cinnamon rolls. 

“Morning, lad!” he called to Henry, in his usual bright morning voice. Killian’s love of the early hours had always been a source of slight irritation for both Henry and his mother. It never felt right that he was so chipper when the sun was barely rising. 

Of course, the upside was having a breakfast chef. Once they had convinced him that broiled mackerel was not a suitable breakfast food, that is.

“Grab these eggs, for me?” Killian asked as he set the pan of sticky rolls on the countertop. Hope was next to the fridge pouring glasses of orange juice. Soon, they were all gathered around the table with plates of food. 

“I’ve missed breakfast like this,” Henry sighed as he bit into a cinnamon roll. “Usually I just grab a donut or a bagel on my way to work.”

“Why do you still have to work for that online newspaper?” Hope asked. “You wrote that book.”

“Well,” Henry sighed, “novelists don’t exactly make a ton of money, especially when they self- publish. I have to pay the bills somehow.”

“It was a fantastic read, Henry, I couldn’t put it down,” Killian added, “I don’t know why a publishing company hasn’t picked it up.”

Henry warmed at the praise. Everyone in Storybrooke had supported his career. He was pretty sure everyone in town had bought multiple copies of his first novel. But to hear Killian support him like this meant even more. Not only because the man read voraciously but because he was the closest thing to a father he had ever had. 

“Well,” he said, struggling to swallow his bite of egg as his heart soared, “I think they see fairy tale retellings as only selling in YA markets, and mine is definitely an adult book.”

“Yeah,” grumbled Hope, “Mom and Dad won’t let me read it yet.”

“Sorry, kid,” Henry sympathized.

Leia attempted to wipe her sticky fingers on the front of her nightgown, and Killian wordlessly handed her a wet wipe. “When do we leave for the farm, Daddy?”

“No!” Charlie protested, almost spilling his juice, “the Snow Festival is first!”

“But I want to ride Buttercup!” protested Leia

“Shut up, you two,” Hope snapped.

“Don’t tell your brother and sister to shut up,” warned Killian.

“Fine,” Hope muttered, rolling her eyes. 

“And you two,” Killian added, pointing at the twins as they stuck their tongues out at each other, “you know full well we’re going to the festival first, then the farm. There’s no point arguing about it.”

“The festival’s going to be lame this year,” Hope pouted, pushing at her eggs with her fork. 

“Hope,” a voice said from the stairs, “watch it, young lady.”

“Swan!” Killian exclaimed, jumping from the table and rushing to his wife, “I was going to bring breakfast up to you!”

Emma waved him off as he helped her into a chair. “I’m fine, babe. I’m not an invalid.”

Killian frowned as he started scrambling some more eggs. “But I worry about the stairs, love. It seems like a lot of strain, and Whale said you’re not supposed to over exert yourself.”

Emma rolled her eyes exactly as Hope had earlier. “You insist on carrying me up the stairs, going down is no big deal. And I’m already having to be pushed around the festival today in a wheelchair. At least let me eat breakfast at the damn table with my family.” 

“Words, Mommy!” Charlie crowed with a smirk. 

“Speaking of the festival -” Henry began hesitantly. 

“Don’t worry,” Emma assured as she reached her hand over to rest upon his arm. “I sent a message to Elsa, and we also had an emergency town meeting. No magic.”

“Like I said,” Hope grumbled, “lame.”

“What’s lame?” 

The silence became palpable as every head swiveled to the bottom of the stairs where Evie was just coming down. She had combed her hair and put it in a smooth, low ponytail, but she still wore her snowflake flannel pajamas. 

“Hope was just expressing her opinions on our town’s annual Snow Festival,” Killian smoothly explained as he set a plate of food in front of his wife. “I’m afraid she’s getting to that age -”

“The tween age?” Evie laughed as she took the empty seat between Hope and Emma. She looked over at Hope and winked. “I remember those days.”

“She only thinks it’s gonna be lame cause there’s no mag-”

Henry reached over and clamped his hand over Leia’s mouth. “No . . . magi . . . “ he stuttered, wracking his brain to come up with a lie. “You know, the three wise men?”

“Yeah, magi,” Emma put in, “there . . . uh . . . used to be a live nativity scene . . . but, uh, people complained about the animals -”

“And their poop!” Charlie finished, dissolving into giggles. “Camels poo-oop, camels poo-op -”

“Charlie, that is not appropriate at the table,” Killian told his son firmly. 

Henry caught Evie’s eye, who was holding her hand over her mouth and trying not to laugh. An awkward silence fell as Evie and Emma both started on their food. 

“You know,” Evie finally spoke up, her gaze still on her eggs, “I work for the FBI. I can tell when people are lying.”

Silence reigned again, as the entire Jones family exchanged concerned glasses.

“But,” she continued, “I can also tell when a lie is innocent and when it’s more . . . nefarious. This is clearly a lie I can overlook.”

Everyone let out breaths they didn’t realize they had been holding. 

Evie took a sip of juice, then added, “For now.”

*******************************************************

The family ended up being late to the festival, what with getting three kids out the door and maneuvering Emma’s wheelchair down the porch steps. Emma’s irritation at using said wheelchair not necessarily helping matters. So by the time they reached town hall, it was packed. Luckily, Regina, Zelena, and the Charmings had saved them a nice spot up front. The crowds, of course, also eagerly parted for the savior, calling out well wishes and concern for her and the baby. If Evie noticed Emma’s special treatment, she didn’t comment on it. 

“As if this weren’t humiliating enough,” Emma grumbled under her breath. Henry exchanged an amused glance with Killian; they both knew his mother wasn’t fond of being fawned over like the princess and hero that she was. 

Further introductions were necessary as Evie met the rest of Henry’s family for the first time. He had prepared his grandparents ahead of time to call themselves his aunt and uncle, and Neal at 13 was old enough to play along and pretend to be Henry’s “cousin.” Little Ava wasn’t even a year old and not yet talking. Evie eagerly took the baby from Mary Margaret (no “Snow” Henry had lectured everyone over the phone), and the little one seemed just as eager to be in Evie’s arms. His other mother and Aunt Zelena were also on their best behavior, welcoming Evie with rare warmth. Twelve-year-old Robyn was fascinated by Evie’s career in the FBI.

“Have you ever had to shoot someone?”

“Robyn!” Zelena reprimanded. “That is not an appropriate question!”

“It’s okay,” Evie laughed as Ava gurgled and grabbed at her nose. “No, Robyn, I haven’t. Most of what I do is more boring than you would expect. I mostly talk to people after they are brought in. I try to get them to tell the truth.”

Henry could tell by Robyn’s expression that she was disappointed. He also knew Evie was being vague on purpose; her specific job with the bureau wasn’t exactly an appropriate topic for children. 

“Well,” Regina said, “it was nice to meet you, Evie, and I can’t wait to talk more later, but right now I have a job to do.”

His mom made her way up to the stage that had been set up in front of town hall. Everyone cheered as she waved to the crowd and stepped up to the microphone. 

“Welcome everyone, to our annual Snow Festival!” she paused while the crowd cheered some more. “I’d like to welcome to Storybrooke, Qu-Mayor of Arendelle, Elsa Frost!”

The crowd clapped half-heartedly as this was much shorter than the usual speech. Normally, his mother reminded everyone of the Snow Queen and her spell of shattered sight that was thwarted by sisters Queen Elsa and Princess Anna of Arendelle. Even though the spell happened in the summer, not the winter, the town had voted that the Saturday before Christmas was the perfect time to celebrate the historic Storybrooke event. 

As Elsa came up the steps to join his mother, Henry realized he had never seen her dressed in normal clothes. Instead of her usual royal gown, she wore a simple blue off the shoulder sweater dress with black leggings and boots. Her hair was still braided over her shoulder, and laced through with decorative snowflakes. He wasn’t surprised to see her without a coat, hat, or mittens. As she often said, the cold just didn’t bother her. Everyone else gathered around, even his mother on stage, were bundled up and shivering. 

Elsa embraced Regina, then turned to the microphone. “As always, I am delighted to be here. This town is full of so many dear friends.” Here Elsa searched the crowd, her gaze resting on Emma and Killian for a moment. “And now, I would like to present, Arendelle’s yearly Christmas gift!”

With that, Elsa lifted a large sheet off an ice sculpture that stood on the ground in front of the stage. Next to him, Evie let out an awed gasp, but she was the only one impressed. Everyone else gave only polite applause.

“That’s amazing,” Evie told him, “I’ve never seen something so intricate! And how did she get the ice castle to glow like that?”

It was beautiful, and it was no doubt made from Elsa’s ice magic. But normally Elsa made the ice castle while everyone watched in awe. The castle was slightly different every year, but it was always big enough for everyone to explore. It would have slides and turrets and winding staircases. Then Elsa always ended the presentation with a burst of magical snowflakes, intricate and as big as your hand that twinkled with glittery multicolored magic as they floated over the crowd. In comparison, this year’s sculpture was a huge disappointment. Hope caught his eye, her arms crossed and her eyebrows lifted as if to say, _told you so_.

“Henry,” Evie leaned over and whispered, “um, why is everyone glaring at me?”

Henry looked away from his sister and saw Leroy giving Evie a look so hateful he was surprised daggers weren’t shooting out of the dwarf’s eyes. “Oh ignore Leroy, he’s always in a bad mood.”

“No, Henry, not just him.”

Henry scanned the crowd to find that she wasn’t exaggerating. All of the dwarves were gathered around Leroy like a group of rural thugs from _The Outsiders_. Granny was giving her the stink eye over the edge of her bifocals, and even the fairies were staring snootily down their noses. Henry scowled, rubbed Evie’s arm comfortingly and marched over to Granny and the dwarves. 

“Will you all lay off?” he hissed so Evie couldn’t hear. “It’s not her fault that her flight got cancelled. She’s essentially stuck here for Christmas, so the least you can do is make her feel welcome.” Without waiting for a response, he marched over to the fairies. “How do you think it looks to have a group of nuns shunning a visitor to town? I’d expect this from the dwarves, but not from all of you.”

“I agree,” a voice spoke up from the edge of the group. 

Blue turned to face the petite blonde. “Tink, you aren’t even part of our order anymore.”

“And this is exactly why. You’re really going to pout over a silly little festival?” Tink then turned to Henry apologetically. “Hook told me about your friend. Introduce me?”

“Um, okay,” Henry said hesitantly, “but none of that Hook business, and your name is Tina, okay?”

She nudged Henry with her elbow. “I can be subtle.”

 _God, I hope so_ , Henry prayed to whoever would listen. As he walked back over to his family with Tink, his concern only increased. His other grandfather and Belle had joined them, and Elsa was bent over Emma’s wheelchair giving her a tight hug. Mercifully, Gideon had taken off somewhere with Hope, Neal, and Robyn. That was three less magical youngsters he would have to worry about. Hopefully the twins would keep behaving themselves. 

“Henry!” Belle exclaimed, bounding over to him and embracing him in a tight hug. “We’ve all missed you. Did Killian tell you I have six copies of your novel in the library?”

He glanced over his shoulder to where Tink was introducing herself to Evie. Since his best friend’s eyes weren’t bugging out of her head, he assumed it was going well. 

“Um, yes, he did, but considering that everyone in town bought their own copy, I think it was overly generous of you.”

“It was not,” scoffed Belle. “That book is a masterpiece, and we need to make sure it’s preserved for the future. Isn’t that right, Rumple?”

“Aye, it’s a great accomplishment, my boy.”

He slapped Henry on the back and smiled, but Henry still couldn’t shake the feeling that Belle was always happier to see him. Nevertheless, he shook his grandfather’s hand in greeting.

“We’ve been meeting your friend Evangeline here,” Belle continued in her eager, friendly voice. She put an arm around Evie in a half hug, and his friend tossed him a look that clearly said _help!_ It wasn’t that Evie had an aversion to touch like Emma did, but meeting so many people all at once was clearly overwhelming her. Mary Margaret was now on stage announcing the snowman building contest, giving Henry a perfect opportunity to rescue her. He extended his hand towards her.

“I believe you told me once that you’ve never built a snowman?” 

Evie grinned and took his hand. “I did.”

“You know what they say,” he told her with a wink, ”you never forget your first.”

He had no idea what possessed him to say something so audaciously suggestive in front of his entire family. 

“He gets that from me, you know,” Killian commented to Grandpa David as Henry walked away with Evie on his arm. 

He had no idea what that meant, either. 

***************************************************

“You know,” Evie grunted as she rolled their snowman’s head across the snowy ground, “no one ever mentions in Hallmark movies what a workout snowman building is.”

Henry chuckled as he helped her roll the head on top of their snowman’s torso. “I don’t think Hallmark movies are the best place to get accurate information about snow.”

Evie draped a scarf around their snowman’s neck, then looked around at the competition and frowned. “Ours looks like Frosty, but some of these are works of art.”

Henry nodded as he gave their snowman a carrot nose. “It’s gotten very competitive as the years have gone by.”

“Look at your stepdad and the twins,” Evie pouted. 

Henry followed her gaze to see Killian lifting Leia to put a garland of poinsettias on their snowfairy’s head. It also not only had wings on its back, but Killian had helped the kids add glitter to intricate carvings along the bottom. The snowfairy had an hourglass figure as well.

“Yeah, Killian’s pretty artistic. You should see him carve a pumpkin.” Of course, he used his hook for those, but Evie didn’t need to know that. Come to think of it, he normally used his hook in the snowman building competition, so it was pretty impressive that he had done so well without it. “He and the twins won last year.” Until the twins were disqualified for bringing their snowpirate to life, that is.

Evie bent down to press buttons into the bottom of the snowman. “So what’s up with your grandpa?”

“What about him?” 

“You and him; you seem kind of . . . distant.”

“Oh,” Henry replied, shaking his head. He had thought she was talking about Grandpa David, and he suddenly realized she thought David was his uncle. “Yeah, we’re not that close really.”

“He doesn’t have to be so cold,” Evie said with an edge to her voice.

Henry sighed as he turned the pebbles they were using for the snowman’s mouth in his hand. “I’ve tried to figure out why he’s like that, but I’ve given up. He says he loves me, but . . . .” Henry started pressing the pebbles one by one onto the snowman’s face. “It may be because of my dad. People say I look like him, and since he died . . . maybe it’s painful for my grandpa? But then other times, I wonder if he just doesn’t like me.”

“He should be happy to have a bit of his son in you.”

Henry shrugged. “Could just be his personality then.” Or being the Dark One, once again something else Evie couldn’t know. “Or it may be my stepdad. Killian and I are close, and, well . . . Grandpa has never liked Killian much.”

Evie nodded as she stood and brushed snow off her knees. “Everyone has some dysfunction in their family.”

“Even your perfect suburban family?”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, Henry, you have no idea.” 

She gazed over his shoulder and smiled at whatever had caught her eye. Henry turned to see Hope, Neal, Robyn, and Gideon shoving handfuls of snow into each other’s faces and laughing instead of working on their snowman. Evie squinted.

“Is that . . . “

“Cerberus, the three headed dog of the underworld? Yep, it is,” Henry answered. 

“Guess they’re Percy Jackson fans,” Evie mused as she put the top hat on their Frosty.

“Yeah,” Henry said dryly, “guess so . . . “

*************************************************

Evie plopped down on a bench next to Elsa who had been sitting and chatting with Emma in her wheelchair. Henry smiled as Evie said something to his mother, and they both laughed. When he reached them, Evie grinned up at him.

“I was just telling your mom how miserably we did in the competition.”

“And I was telling her that the only time I got so much as an honorable mention was when Elsa was my partner.”

The Queen of Arendelle giggled. “I think the judges felt sorry for us. You would think I of all people would be able to build a simple snowman.”

Emma grasped Elsa’s hand, her laughter leaving her breathless. “You should have seen it, Evie, a pitiful little thing that only reached our knees.”

“It looked like it was already melting,” Elsa added, fanning at her cheeks as tears filled her eyes from laughter. “With that huge carrot nose and crooked stick arms.”

“We named him Olaf,” Emma finished.

“Like in Frozen!” Evie exclaimed. “Cute! I bet you get Frozen jokes a lot with the name Elsa, and being blonde, and -”

“Dad!” Hope yelled so loudly over Henry’s shoulder that all four of them jumped. When they all swiveled towards her to find out why in the world she had screamed that way, she pointed near the ice skating pond. “I want to ice skate with Dad.”

“He’s coming over here now,” Emma pointed, then she mouthed to her daughter _thank you_.

“Mommy, mommy, look!” Charlie shouted, waving a blue ribbon in his hand as he and his sister and Killian approached. “First place!”

“And we didn’t even -”

Killian clapped a hand over Leia’s mouth before she could finish. “We didn’t even have the biggest snowman,” he finished. 

“Our cerberus would have won if his third head hadn’t fallen off,” Hope grumbled. 

“Uh uh,” argued Leia, “our snowfairy had glitter!” 

Charlie stuck his tongue out at his big sister. 

“Can you three get along for five minutes?” Emma groaned. 

“Daddy!” Hope squealed, bouncing over to grasp Killian by the arm. “Come skate with me!”

Killian’s eyes grew wide and he scratched behind his ear. “Now love, you know how ridiculous I look trying to ice skate.”

Henry bit his lip to hold back his chuckle. A pirate who spent two centuries on a tropical island wasn’t exactly the most coordinated man on ice skates. Teasing him about it had become a favorite past time for all the Jones children. 

“I see you, Henry,” Killian protested, wagging a finger at his stepson. 

“How about if there’s a beginner on the ice with you?” Evie spoke up. She turned bright eyes on Henry. “I’ve never ice skated, but I’ve always wanted to.”

“I thought lots of people skate in New York City?” Charlie asked. 

“They do, I guess,” Evie said with a wrinkled nose, “but what they don’t show in the movies is how crowded those rinks are. And I’ve never wanted to make a fool of myself in front of that many people.” 

“Come on, then!” Hope cried, pulling her father down to the edge of the rink. Evie was right behind his little sister, and with a shrug to his mom and Elsa, Henry could do nothing but follow. 

************************************************

Evie was clinging to Henry as if her life depended on it. Just staying upright was an incredible feat, and to say they were going a snail’s pace around the rink was an understatement. 

“Whoa - oooh - woah!” Evie cried out as her feet slid back and forth beneath her. Her grip tightened on the collar of Henry’s coat. 

“Careful!” he cried, wrapping his arms tight around her waist. “You’ll take me with you!”

“I take it back,” she muttered into his shirt, “building a snowman is a piece of cake compared to this.”

“You know,” he said against her hair, “it’s easier to skate going forwards.”

Still pressed against his chest, she tilted her face to look up at him. Her face was flushed, and wisps of her auburn hair had come free of her low ponytail. The green of the beanie on her head made the green in her eyes brighter, and even though there seemed to be a thousand layers of clothes between them, he was keenly aware of every one of her curves. 

“So,” she said with a grin, “how do I turn around without falling on my ass?”

He suddenly realized he had a goofy grin plastered on his own face, and quickly cleared his throat. ”Um, very carefully?”

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the detailed instructions, Scott Moir.”

“If that makes you Tessa Virtue, I beg to differ.”

“Ha, ha, can you just help me face the other way, smart ass?”

He frowned down at her. ”Actually, I think it would be easier if _I_ turned around.” He loosened his hold on her and then slowly let go with his left while keeping a firm grip on her with his right. “Don’t move,” he warned her as he pivoted. He tucked her into his side. “There, see?”

She wasn’t looking at him, but down at her feet. “Now how do I move?” she whispered as if talking too loud would sent her feet flying out from under her. 

“The way my mom taught me is to pretend like your marching, only with tiny steps.”

“Which mom?”

“Does it matter?” Henry laughed. “It was Regina. Now, try it.” 

Of course, he also had cursed memories of Emma teaching him. In his mind, those false memories still felt real. He cleared his throat to push the thought away as he watched Evie tentatively shift her feet back and forth. 

“See, you’ve got it!”

Apparently, he had spoken too soon. Maybe there was a dip in the ice. Maybe it was the shock of Gideon Gold flying past at top speed. Maybe it was simply a sudden lack of balance. Whatever it was, Evie’s feet flew out from under her as a scream tore from her mouth. Henry moved to catch her, but her iron grip on his coat brought him down with her. He took the brunt of the fall and cushioned Evie’s landing. 

Luckily, hysterical laughter poured out of her mouth. Henry let out a breath of relief, even as pain shot up his hip. Her laughter was contagious, and soon they were both breathless with it. Evie rolled off him and onto the ice, holding her side as she attempted to calm down. Henry rolled over to look down at her, his hand ghosting over her head, and then down her arm. 

“Are you okay?”

“Me?” Evie gasped, laughter still spilling from her lips. “I landed on top of you!”

“As small as you are?” Henry teased. “You just knocked a little wind out of me.”

“Shut up with the short jokes,” she told him, smacking him lightly in the chest. 

Without thinking, he grasped her hand and pressed it to his chest. They were both wearing mittens, but his heart still thudded. His gaze drifted from her eyes, those flecks of gold now shining merrily, and down to her lips. They were pink from the cold, but still full, and -

“Henry?”

“Yes?”

“The ice is kind of wet.”

“Oh,” he said, a blush filling his face as he scrambled to his knees. He helped her up, and once again she was clinging to the front of him, her nose buried in his coat. 

“I think I’ll stay right here this time,” she told him. 

That was definitely fine with him. The thought came unbidden, and Henry suddenly knew that his feelings for Evangeline Crawford went far deeper than friendship. But could he really expect to win this woman’s heart when every other word out of his mouth was a lie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, I have been telling this story from Henry's point of view. But we have some chapters coming that will be from Emma's point of view. She and Evie are going to have a a chat that I'm really looking forward too! There will also be a strictly CS scene ;) So stay tuned!


	4. Sleigh Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I know so far the story has been told from Henry's point of view, but it won't all be. This story is also told from Emma's point of view, and the next chapter will be half Emma's as well.   
> * This chapter has some pancakes for CS as well :) Hinted pancakes, like on the show though. Not smutty pancakes.

Emma felt odd sitting at her parent’s dining room table in one of the plush chairs from the living room. Even after all these years, she wasn’t used to being fussed over. She even still chaffed at her husband’s constant care and attention, made only worse by Dr. Whale’s diagnosis of preeclampsia. Her hand rubbed absently over her swollen abdomen. She wouldn’t deny that this cushioned seat was doing so much more for her back than the wooden dining room chair would have. 

She looked around the table at those gathered around. Her father was spooning more mashed potatoes onto Robyn’s outstretched plate while simultaneously laughing with Killian over something. Zelena nudged her daughter, admonishing her to stop with the mashed potatoes already, then gave David an apology. Emma pressed her fingers to her lips and swallowed a giggle. Who would have ever expected the Wicked Witch of the West to be admonishing her daughter to be a more polite guest in Prince Charming and Snow White’s home?

Killian caught her delighted expression and winked at her, then took her hand and kissed it. He didn’t let it go when Belle said something to him on the other side of the table. Her mother rose to pull a fussy Ava out of her high chair. Regina reached for the baby eagerly, and Snow handed her over. Regina made faces at the baby and tickled her tummy. 

Emma’s eyes drifted to her oldest son who was making gestures with his hands as he explained something to his Grandpa Rumple across the table. Evangeline threw her head back and laughed as she lightly touched Henry’s arm. Rumple folded his hands under his chin, only the slightest smile lifting one half of his mouth at the obviously hilarious story. Evie patted Henry’s shoulder, then started talking animatedly. Emma assumed she must be adding to whatever tale Henry was weaving. 

“What are you thinking, my love?” Killian whispered in her ear. 

She gave him a small smile and a wink. “For one precious moment, everyone is getting along. I’m enjoying it while I can.”

He chuckled and brushed a kiss to her forehead.

*************************************************

Grandpa David – Uncle David Henry mentally corrected – stood in front of the fireplace in the farmhouse living room with an eager grin on his face. He rubbed his hands together gleefully. 

“Okay,” he announced to the family gathered around the Christmas tree, “Sn - ahem, Mary Margaret and I decided that instead of gifts this year -”

The children all suddenly groaned. 

“Now wait a minute,” David said teasingly, crossing his arms and casting a glare at all the kids, “you haven’t let me finish. Instead of gifts, we’re giving _experiences_.”

Grandma Snow – Aunt Mary Margaret Henry corrected once again – joined her husband with a huge smile dimpling her face. “It's something I read about on a blog. See, instead of things, you arrange something for you and your loved ones to do together. Most of you will be receiving tickets to certain things on Christmas morning -”

At that, the kids perked up and started to whisper excitedly. 

“Are you gonna take us to Disney World?” Charlie asked in a high-pitched squeal.

“Just wait and see,” his grandmother replied in a sing-song voice. Henry shook his head. She was still horrible at keeping secrets. 

“Whaddya need to go to Disney World for?” Robyn piped up with a roll of her eyes. “Just take the Joll-” 

Zelena grabbed her daughter’s arm. 

“Ow!” she protested. “What was that for?”

Zelena glared at her daughter. 

“Anyway,” David jumped back in, “the first gift we’re giving was kind of a last minute one, and we’re so excited that we pulled it off.”

Snow made her way over to Evangeline and took her hands. “I know how hard it must be to miss Christmas with your family. But, being in Maine means you can check off some Christmas traditions you can’t get down south in Atlanta.” 

David leaned and looked out the window. “They’re here, darling.”

“Everyone bundle up and meet us on the porch!” Snow called. “We’ve got a gift for Henry’s friend Evie.”

Evie turned wide eyes on Henry. “What is all this about?” 

He shrugged. “I guess we better go see.”

The kids beat everyone out the door, and by the time Henry and Evie got bundled up and headed out, they had to get up on their toes to see the front yard of the farmhouse. Parked there was a white sleigh trimmed in red, with Buttercup hitched to the front. The cream-colored horse shook her mane and the sound of jingle bells filled the air. Sitting on the driver’s seat was a scowling Grumpy. Lined up behind the first sleigh were six more, each being driven by one of the dwarves. 

“Merry Christmas, Evie!” Snow exclaimed, clapping her hands with glee.

“Okay, everybody!” David shouted. “Line up to ride! Two to a sleigh, or two adults and one child.”

Henry grabbed his mom. “We have this many sleighs and horses in Storybrooke?”

“For the horses, three are your Grandpas and the other four came from Storybrooke Stables. As for the sleighs,” Regina shrugged, “well you only said Evie coudn’t _see_ any magic.”

Henry’s gaze found Evie, who was standing with her mittened hands pressed to her mouth, her eyes shining. 

“Oh, Mrs. Nolan,” she gasped, “this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done . . . “

She trailed off, rendered speechless, and Henry’s grandma embraced her. “It’s your gift, so you get to go first. Who do you want to ride with?”

Evie’s gaze met Henry’s as all three of his siblings ran to Evie, tugging at her arm and begging to ride with her. The last thing he wanted to do was share this sleigh ride with a little kid wedged between the two of them. He pushed his way towards Evie and extended his hand. 

“If I may,” he said, struggling to remember the charming ways of the men in his family, “I would like to share this ride with Evangeline. Just the two of us?”

She smiled and took his hand. He tried to ignore the groans of protest from his siblings, and the looks exchanged between the adult members of his family. Instead, he guided Evie down the front walk and helped her into the sleigh. He stepped inside, adjusted the wool blanket on the seat across their laps, and told Grumpy they were ready to go.

“This farm is beautiful,” Evie sighed, taking in the snow laden pines, oaks, and maples all around them. She snuggled down in her seat, a contented smile upon her face. “I feel like I’m living a Hallmark Christmas movie. All this snow, and the festival, and ice skating . . . now this? Thank you so much Henry for giving this to me. For bringing me here.”

She smiled up at him, and the muscles in his arms twitched. He ached to put his arm around her, and maybe yesterday he would have, before he was aware of how he felt about her. Evie had never shied away from his touch. She would grab his arm or his hand, lean against his shoulder when she was tired, grab him around the waist for a hug when she was upset. He suddenly realized she had always been the one to initiate those things. 

She shivered, then yawned. Henry took a deep breath, then lifted his arm and put it around her shoulder. She melted into him, shifting to cuddle deeper into his side. He lowered his cheek and rested it against the top of her head. 

“I’m glad you’re here too,” he told her.

They were silent for a few moments, enjoying the whooshing sound of the sleigh and the jiggling of the horse’s bells. A lantern swung from a hook at Grumpy’s side on the driver’s seat, and it cast bright beams of light across the fallen snow. A few yards behind them, they could hear Robyn and Hope singing “Jingle Bells’ at the top of their lungs as his Aunt Zelena begged them to stop. Evie looked up at him and laughed as the girls dissolved into pre-teen giggles. 

“Your aunt and uncle are so nice,” Evie commented. “Why have you never mentioned them?”

“Um . . .” Henry awkwardly cleared his throat, “I don’t know. I guess I just talk about Neal more?”

“And your grandparents? I thought they were the ones who owned the farm. Where are they?”

“They’re . . . on a cruise.” He winced at the blatant lie as he pulled his arm away from Evie. It didn’t feel right to make a move on her when he was keeping so much from her. 

She didn’t speak again for the rest of the sleigh ride, neither did she look at him. He tried to tell himself she was just enjoying the scenery, but he couldn’t ignore the tension that had suddenly fallen between them. 

****************************************************

An hour later, Emma had her feet propped up on the ottoman, her toes reaching towards the fire place of her own living room. Killian was sitting on the floor next to her, and her fingers were absentmindedly in his hair. She looked over at the sofa where Henry and Evie sat. Henry’s arm was draped across the back of the couch, almost but not quite touching Evie’s shoulder. The girl herself was as close as she could be to Henry without actually touching him. Both wore Santa hats on their heads that they had gotten at the Snow Festival earlier in the day. When they had first gotten home from the farm, Evie had chased Henry around the living room for ten minutes before convincing him to don the hat so she could take a selfie to post on Instagram. Now they sat alternating between staring into their mugs of hot chocolate and steeling glances at one another. The four of them had been chatting in front of the fire ever since the kids had all gone to bed, and a lull had settled comfortably around them. 

Evie let out a sigh and dropped her head on Henry’s shoulder. “I’m tired,” she said with a small yawn. “I think I’ll head upstairs to bed.”

“You know,” Henry commented with forced nonchalance, “I’m pretty tired myself. I’ll go up too.”

Killian tilted his head back to share a knowing glance with Emma, and she hid her chuckle by taking a sip of her own cocoa.

“Good night, lad,” Killian called behind them, “good night, Evangeline.”

“Good night,” they chorused back. Emma craned her neck to see Henry’s hand hover at the small of Evie’s back, then she couldn’t see them anymore. 

“He’s in love with her,” Emma told her husband softly once she was sure they were out of earshot.

“I know,” Killian chuckled, “I think all of Storybrooke can tell.”

“Except for Evie.” Emma sighed as Killian shifted to rest his head in her lap. “He loves her but won’t tell her because he’s too clueless to see that she loves him back.”

“Don’t worry, love,” he told her, sitting back up so he could look at her, “they’ll sort it out. Just like we did so long ago.”

Emma’s breath caught at the way his hair was all disheveled from where her fingers had been running through it, the way his cheeks were flushed from sitting so close to the fire, and the way his lips quirked up in that roguish half-smile of his. She groaned when she bent over to try and haul him to her, her broad abdomen getting in the way. 

Killian’s expression quickly morphed to one of concern at the sudden sound, and he rose quickly to his knees beside her. “Are you well?” he asked, cupping her face with his hand and prosthetic. 

Instead of answering or even rolling her eyes as she was so wont to do, she lunged forward instead to give him a rough kiss. She felt him smile beneath her lips, and then he was giving as good as he got. She clutched desperately at his shirt, their teeth clashing with the force of her assault. 

“Take me upstairs, pirate,” she ordered before nipping at his earlobe.

“Emma,” he protested feebly as she trailed kisses down his neck, “Whale said -”

“No over-exerting myself, I know,” Emma huffed. She pouted at Killian as she pulled away. “Do you have any idea how horny pregnant women can get?”

He smirked at her, “I’ve experienced it first-hand twice, my dear.”

“Is that supposed to be joke?” Emma couldn’t help quipping with a wink. Then she put on her most seductive smile, draped her arms around his neck, and spoke with her lips just hovering over his. “I know you can be gentle with me, Killian. Please? I want you.”

She almost gave a satisfied smirk of her own when she saw the sheer lust shining in his eyes. But instead she let out a yelp as he stood and scooped her up into his arms in one smooth motion. 

“If the lady insists . . . “

“Oh I do,” she purred. Then she bit her lip as he headed for the stairs. “I’m not too heavy am I?” 

She asked him the same thing every night. He smiled down at her.

“I’ve carried rum barrels heavier than you.”

She smiled at the familiar line as he toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You know, I like that line better now than the first time.”

“Because your pregnant and worried it changes how I feel?”

“No. Because it’s my husband saying it.”


	5. Winter Wonderland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sorry about not posting yesterday. My day just got a little busier than I had anticipated. The good news is that chapter four and five were shorter than anticipated, so I combined them into one. So we're actually still on schedule :)  
> * This chapter also has a lot of CS, just to warn my non-CS readers. But that is the fandom I usually write for, so I couldn't help myself.

Emma lay in bed, staring at the ceiling while Killian slept deeply next to her. She turned her head to look at him (rolling over was a bit of a feat at eight months pregnant), and smiled at the peaceful look on his face as he lay on his stomach, clutching a pillow. The sheets and blankets were low on his hips, and the moon shone through the window on his muscular back. She twisted as best she could to reach out and trace the tattoos there: the swan across his left shoulder blade that he had gotten during the year they were separated, the nautical star in the middle of his back with Liam’s name on it, and her favorite: his newest tattoo on his hip of four swallows symbolizing each of their children. He shivered at her touch, then sighed in contentment, but he remained deeply asleep. Emma turned and stared up at the ceiling again. 

She was sore, but in the best way, and completely sated. Yet she couldn’t get to sleep. She had read somewhere that sex could induce labor. Maybe that was why she felt so much nervous energy. Where Killian normally left her deliciously spent, her limbs like jello, pregnant he had instead revved her up like the Energizer bunny. She grumbled and tossed the blankets aside. Hoisting herself out of their bed wasn’t easy, but laying here was driving her slowly insane. 

She was surprised to see a light in the living room as she descended the stairs. When she reached the bottom steps, she heard a voice and suddenly froze. It was Evie talking on the phone. 

“Mama, I’m not trying to be difficult. Snow’s coming down like crazy. Killian says there could be three feet of it by morning.” Emma heard Evie sigh. “Henry’s stepdad, Mama.” 

Emma leaned over a little and saw the back of Evie’s head as she sat on the couch. 

“He insisted I call him that. It’s what Henry calls him.” Evie stood up and began to pace, but still didn’t notice Emma. “No, I’m not dating Henry. I told you that. He’s just a friend.” She massaged her brow wearily for several moments, and Emma assumed her mother was talking. Suddenly, Evie’s jaw tensed and her eyes flashed. “Are you seriously blaming me for that? Josh is the one who left!” She paced to the window and stared out at the thick snowflakes as they fell. “I don’t want to fight either. I love you, too.”

Emma bit back a laugh as Evie shook the phone in frustration after she hung up, then tossed it on the ottoman by the fire. She turned then, and her eyes widened when she saw Emma on the stairs. 

“I’m sorry. Was I talking too loud?”

Emma shook her head and waved her off as she came the rest of the way down the stairs. “Not at all. I just couldn’t sleep and decided to make myself some cocoa.” She went to the kitchen, pulled out a saucepan, and put it on the stove. “Want some?”

Evie smiled tentatively. “I can’t say no to your family recipe. But are you sure it’s okay?”

Emma shrugged as she filled the pan with milk. “Believe me, we’re well stocked when it comes to cocoa.”

“No, I mean, your bed rest . . . and Killian was worried about the stairs.”

Emma rolled her eyes as she measured out cocoa powder. “I’ve told him a million times I can walk down those things just fine.”

“But how will you get back up?” Evie asked, pointing one finger upward. Her face looked genuinely concerned. 

Emma reached over and patted her hand. “What Killian doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Okay then,” Evie accepted taking a seat at the kitchen table. 

As Emma stirred the pot on the stove, she glanced over at the younger woman. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay here. It must be hard being away from your family. Henry says you’re all really close.”

“We are,” Evie said, fiddling with the frayed sleeves of her pajama shirt, “but, as you probably heard, my Mom can be . . . opinionated.”

“I didn’t mean to overhear,” Emma assured, “and you don’t owe me any explanation.”

Evie sighed, propping her chin in her hand. “My daddy is my hero. He’s so kind, but also strong and steady. He lets my mom kind of run over him a little, though. He just accepts me the way I am, and I just wish . . . “ She trailed off, shaking her head as she took the mug of cocoa Emma offered her. “It would make me feel a lot better about helping you break the rules if we were comfortable on the couch.”

Emma arched her back and rubbed at the base of her spine. “That actually sounds fantastic,” she admitted. 

The two of them settled on the couch sipping their cocoa. Evie tucked her feet beneath her. Emma could sense she wanted to say something, so she waited quietly. 

“I’m the youngest child,” Evie finally said, “and the only one who didn’t stick close to home.”

Emma nodded. “And your parents worry.”

“I don’t think it’s that,” Evie shook her head. “I worked for the DA’s office in Atlanta as a victim’s advocate. Believe me, that city is just as scary as New York.” She clutched her mug tighter. “I didn’t fit into my mother’s world. I didn’t want to be an East Cobb snob and join the Junior Service League and the DAR. I was supposed to go to UGA, be a gym dog, and rush a sorority. Mama had it all planned out.”

“A gym dog?”

Evie chuckled. “Sorry, it’s what they call the University of Georgia gymnastics team. You know, because they’re the bulldogs?”

“Oh,” Emma nodded as she sipped her cocoa. 

“You’re probably wondering how I ever ended up in the FBI.”

Emma shrugged. “Nobody expected a five foot, five inch pretty blonde to be in bail bonds.”

Evie grinned. “And you used it to your advantage.” It was a statement, not a question, and Emma smiled back and clinked her mug with Evie’s. But then the auburn-haired girl pinned Emma with an intense gaze. “When I was fourteen, my best friend who did gymnastics with me was raped. He was an intern at the gym where we trained. A nineteen-year-old from Georgia State. He offered Charlotte a ride home but took her to his apartment instead.”

Emma frowned. “I’m so sorry.”

Evie nodded. “She told her parents right away, they went to the police where they did a rape kit. They did everything right. Charlotte was a mess, but she wanted to make sure he didn’t do it to anyone else. I was there with her as much as I could, including at the trial.” Evie took a sip of cocoa. Emma had a feeling it was more to steady herself than anything. “He was found not guilty.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “That’s terrible!”

Evie gripped her mug tighter. “Charlotte looked older than she was; a fact that the defense attorney kept hammering home. He kept saying they shouldn’t ruin a boy’s life just because Charlotte _regretted_ going home with him. And I hate to say it, but . . . “ she released a deep breath, “well, Charlotte was black, and he was white. That still matters to a lot of people back home, sick as that is.”

“Charlotte . . . _was_ . . . “

Evie’s eyes welled up with tears as she nodded. “She was never the same after that. She quit gymnastics, her grades dropped, and three months later . . . she took her own life.”

Emma’s eyes flashed. “That’s . . . that’s . . .”

“Shitty?” 

“That’s an understatement,” Emma muttered. She tilted her head and regarded Evie. “That’s why you changed plans, isn’t it?”

Evie nodded. “I stayed in Atlanta and got a criminal justice degree at Georgia State. I got hired as a victim’s advocate and was passionate about what I did. A detective with the Atlanta PD who had worked closely with me on a few cases got a job with a new task force with the FBI in New York. A task force on human trafficking. They needed someone to talk to those rescued, preferably a woman, and he recruited me.”

Emma smiled. “You love what you do.”

Evie nodded. “It’s not easy, and it’s not glamorous, but I feel like I’m making a difference, you know?” She paused. “But my mom doesn’t seem to understand. I wish she’d just be proud of me.”

Emma hesitated, then finally said, “Henry’s proud of you.”

Evie smiled, a slight blush warming her cheeks. “Well, now that I’ve met you, I can see why he’s not intimidated by a strong woman.” Her smile faded. “Josh on the other hand . . . “

“He was your fiance when Henry met you?”

Evie nodded. “Yeah. He moved to New York with me when I got the job, but . . . well, let’s just say he didn’t expect me to cut it in the FBI. Thought I’d be running back to Atlanta crying within three months, he actually said that to me. Him not believing in me hurt so much. Is that stupid?”

“No. One of the things that made me fall in love with Killian was how much he believed in me.”

“Emma Swan Jones, you are the most bloody stubborn woman -”

Emma and Evie startled to hear Killian’s voice behind the couch. When they saw him standing there, looking disheveled and still half asleep, they both burst out laughing. He crossed his arms petulantly. 

“Yes, keep laughing at me, both of you. Sitting here warm in your pajamas while I have to go dig the only snowplow in town out of a snowbank.”

“Aw, babe, that sucks,” Emma soothed, reaching her hand out. Killian took it, then bent to brush a kiss across her lips. 

“Stay here on the couch,” he lectured, bopping Emma on the nose with the tip of his finger. “I’ll carry you up when I get back.”

“Okay,” she pouted, sticking out her lower lip. 

Killian pulled on his snow boots, bundled up, and then headed out the door. Evie leaned closer to Emma once the door shut behind him. 

“I guess he didn’t notice you made cocoa.”

The door suddenly opened again. “And don’t think I didn’t notice that you made cocoa. Stay away from the stove!”

They both laughed as he shut the door once again. 

Emma sighed. “He’s so cute.”

**********************************************

Henry knew in his bones that it had snowed before he even got up the next morning. It was eerily quiet as it so often is after a heavy snowfall, and the sun seemed brighter than yesterday. Sure enough, when he looked out of the middle of the turret’s windows, he saw a fresh blanket of pure white reflecting the rays of the early morning sun. Then he frowned and pressed his nose against the glass. 

“Shit!” he cried as he raced from the room and down two flights of stairs. He was forced to pause at the back door so he could shove his boots on. He didn’t bother with a coat even though the cold hit him like a physical force as he trudged across the back lawn. He threw open the door of the shed, his eyes frantically searching. 

“Henry!” Evie cried happily upon seeing him. Then she quickly frowned. “What are you doing out here without a coat?”

“Evie,” he panted, reaching a hand out to her, “let’s go back inside, _now_.” His eyes kept scanning the place while Evie stood there as if he’d lost his mind completely. But Henry knew this was Killian’s favorite hiding place for things. His hook was probably in here, and who knew what else. 

Evie laughed and rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Henry, I’m looking for a shovel.”

Henry shook his head as if to clear it. “A shovel?”

Evie sighed, clearly exasperated at him. “Yes. I’m going to shovel the walk for your parents. They’ve been so nice to me, and your stepdad was out late because of a snow plow.” She tilted her head and tapped her chin. “And something about a wolf? I thought maybe I heard that wrong . . .”

Henry pressed his eyes closed and counted to ten. Great. Just great. Last night had been a full moon, too. 

“There it is!” Evie struggled to squeeze past the lawn mower to reach the shovel leaning against the wall of the shed. Henry’s parents weren’t exactly the greatest at lawn maintenance. Neither had ever had a permanent home, especially one with a yard, so to say the shed got a little cluttered and messy was an understatement. And as for shoveling, well, his mom’s magic usually handled that with little effort. 

Evie pulled on the shovel, but it was wedged between a large water hose and a box of flower pots his mom had never gotten around to using. She yanked and managed to get the shovel free, but lost her balance and tripped over the lawnmower. Henry lunged to catch her, but her elbow hit a potting table, sending a tool box sliding. It tipped over, and a leather pouch tumbled out. Several magic beans fell from the pouch and rolled across the table. Evie gasped, and Henry cringed. 

“What in the world are these?” Evie asked as she picked up a bean.

“Careful with those!” Henry cried

“Would you relax? What’s your problem?” Evie snapped, yanking her hand away as he reached for the bean. He felt like he was watching in slow motion as she lost her grip on it. He lunged for the bean as it tumbled through the air, but it was too late. 

The bean hit the ground, and instantly a swirling portal opened in the floor of the shed. Henry was sliding forward from the momentum of grabbing for the bean, but Evie’s feet were ripped from underneath her. She screamed as she began to fall, and Henry slid just in time to the portal’s edge to catch her. 

“Henry!” she screamed as she clutched his arms. “Help me!”

The terror in her eyes ripped his heart in two, and he remembered the horror he felt as he plunged through his first portal at age eleven. The portal to Neverland. Then he quickly forced his mind to think of something else. If the worst happened, and Evie fell through, he’d have to follow her, and the last place they needed to end up was Neverland. Neverland for Christmas. Boy, that would suck. 

No! Henry thought to himself. They weren’t going to be stuck in some other realm, not for Christmas. With renewed determination, he pulled Evie over the edge of the portal with all the strength that he possessed. His burst of strength combined with the pulse of magic as the portal closed sent Evie flying into him. He hit the ground with a loud grunt, Evie clasped trembling to his chest. 

“Thank God,” he gasped, cupping the back of her head. 

She shoved off him, however, scrambling backwards with wide and terrified eyes. 

“What the hell just happened?” she screamed.


	6. Wrapped in Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I know the number of chapters keeps getting lower, but usually I have the opposite problem. So when I outlined this, I underestimated how much I could fit in each chapter, so they keep getting combined. But it's been working out since posting a chapter each day has been more difficult than anticipated.   
> * I'm a little nervous about this chapter because it and the next one are the reason for the M rating. And, well, it's Henry. Just remember - he's an adult. Andrew J. West. Andrew J. West. Repeat that mantra. It isn't smut, but Henry is definitely acting like a grown man. Having said all that, I love this chapter so much and hope you enjoy it too!  
> * The title of this chapter comes from the song by Kelly Clarkson. I've been listening to her Christmas album a lot as I write this and my CS Secret Santa fic, and this song is so perfect for Henry and Evie!

The day Henry met Evangeline Crawford, he knew they had at least one thing in common. He had been staring down at his phone, not looking where he was going, when he smacked right into her. She was struggling to carry a box of paperbacks as she moved into the apartment across the hall. When he knelt to help her collect them, he teasingly asked her what grade she was in. 

“Is that some sort of sick pick up line?” she had snapped with clear disgust. 

He had rubbed the back of his neck, distressed that she had misunderstood. He had waved the book in his hand around. “I can tell you’re a grown woman. It was a pitiful joke about your taste in literature.”

She had snatched the copy of _Ella Enchanted_ out of his hand and stuffed it back into her box as pink stained her freckled cheeks. “Lots of people read YA lit these days. Ever heard of _The Hunger Games_? _Divergent?”_

But the box she clutched defensively to her chest wasn’t filled with dystopian novels. Instead, they were all written by Gail Carson Levine, Shannon Hale, Melanie Dickerson, and Marissa Meyer. They were all fairy tales. 

Henry really hoped in this moment that Evie’s reading tastes meant she had the heart of a true believer because what he had to tell her was incredibly difficult to believe. Of course, she’d almost fallen through a portal, so there was that. 

She clutched a mug of hot cocoa in her trembling hands. His mom sat across from them at the kitchen table. His siblings had been sent outside to “practice their magic” on clearing the walk of snow. Hopefully, there would be no Frosty impersonations along the way. 

“So,” she said, setting her mug down slowly, “you said let’s go inside and sit down. Well, we’re sitting. Now care to explain to me how a hole opened up in your parent’s shed and almost swallowed me?”

Henry let out a long, slow breath. “Okay, I don’t really know how to ease into this, so I’ll just say it. Storybrooke wasn’t on the GPS because it’s not supposed to be here. It was created by a curse that my mom – Regina – cast the day my other mom was born.”

“Seriously?” Evie’s voice was halfway between incredulous and hysterical.

“My mom,” Henry continued, pointing at Emma, “is the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. I introduced them to you as my Uncle David and Aunt Mary Margaret, but they’re really my grandparents.”

Evie scowled at Henry. “You must really think I’m stupid. Those people are nowhere near old enough to be your grandparents.”

Henry swallowed nervously. “They are if time was frozen in Storybrooke for 28 years.”

“This is . . . this is . . . “

“Impossible?” Emma finished for her softly, putting a hand gently over hers. “I understand how you feel. I felt the exact same way when Henry first brought me here. But It's all true.” She tugged on Evie’s hand. “Come here, let me show you something.”

Evie seemed to be in a daze as she followed Emma to the front door. From the doorway, they could see Hope with her hands outstretched, sending bursts of magic to clear the snow from the front walk. By the side of the house, Leia and Charlie were supposed to be doing the same with the driveway. Instead, they were using magic to hurl snowballs at each other. 

“Leia Snow and Charles David!” Emma shouted. “Is that what you’re supposed to be doing right now?”

“No mom,” they grumbled, turning reluctantly back to the driveway.

Evie swayed slightly on her feet. “Am I dreaming?”

Henry put his arm around her and guided her back inside. But instead of steering her to the kitchen table, he sat her down on the sofa. He took both of her hands in his; they were cold as ice.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” he said hesitantly.

Evie shook her head. “So, you’re saying that this town is magical?”

Henry nodded.

“And you’re the grandson of Snow White and Prince Charming?”

He nodded again. 

“So, that makes your adoptive mom, who? The . . . Evil Queen?”

Henry squirmed a bit. “Um, yes, but she’s given up her evil ways.”

Evie nodded, staring down at the floor. “Are you telling me that fairy tales are -”

“True? Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

Her brow wrinkled as she lifted her gaze to his. “Your book. That was all true?”

He chuckled. “I like to say it’s inspired by real life. I did get kidnapped and taken to Neverland like the character Elias in my book. And Peter Pan _was_ an evil demon. But the rest? I made up.”

“So Tinkerbell and Tiger Lily aren’t co-captains of a an all-female crew of pirates?”

“Um, no. As a matter of fact, you met Tinkerbell yesterday. Tina?”

Evie dropped her head between her knees for a moment, then sat up and massaged her temple. “Who else have I met?”

“Well,” Henry began hesitantly with a glance at his mom, “my stepdad is Captain Hook.”

Evie rolled her eyes and let out a wry laugh. “Of course he is. He’s missing a hand. What? Did he hide is hook because I was coming?”

Emma shrugged apologetically. “We didn’t want to freak you out.”

Evie surged to her feet. “So instead you let me stumble around in the shed and . . . and . . . I don’t even know what happened in there!”

“It was a magic bean -’

“A magic bean?” Evie shouted, hysterical now. “What the hell?”

Henry stood, reaching his hands out tentatively to rest upon her shoulders. He was relieved when she didn’t shrug him off. “They open portals,” he explained slowly. “They used to be rare, but Tiny has cultivated fields of them on the outskirts of town. People use them to travel between the realms.”

“We keep a bag here and in the sheriff station in case of an emergency,” Emma spoke up. “I’m sorry we didn’t keep them in a safer place.”

“I’m . . . I’m . . . ,” Evie’s eyes looked panicked as she pressed her hands to her cheeks, “I need to go lie down.”

“Evie -” Henry started, but this time she did shrug him off when he went to hold her. 

“Give her time, Henry,” Emma encouraged him, reaching out and squeezing his hand. 

He looked up the stairs and hoped she wasn’t going up there to pack her bags.

************************************************

Henry tried to give Evie space, but after almost an hour, he couldn’t take it anymore. He made his way upstairs, opening the door of his old room as slowly and quietly as he could. The room was dark, and Evie was curled up on the bed in the fetal position. He couldn’t see her face as he eased down on the bed, wondering if he should say something to her. He reached his hand out twice, but both times, he snatched it back, unsure if she wanted him to touch her. 

“Who’s Tiny?”

He startled as she rolled towards him. “I’m sorry?”

“Tiny,” she repeated, sliding up to lean back against the headboard, “you said he grows the magic beans.”

“Oh, um, he’s a . . . giant.” He winced, knowing how crazy it sounded. 

She arched a brow. “As in Jack and the Beanstalk?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but Tiny wasn’t the bad guy, Jack was. And . . . um . . . Jack was a woman.”

Evie blinked. “Okay.”

Henry slid up to lean back next to her, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. “The true stories are a lot different than the ones you heard growing up.”

She nodded, and they were both quiet for a really long time. Finally, she shifted closer to him and nudged his shoulder. 

“I just have one question.”

He took her hand. “Anything.”

“How did you manage to hide a giant from me all this time?”

He laughed in relief, relinquishing her hand to envelop her in a tight hug.

****************************************************

Evie looked nervous as he opened the passenger side door for her. She stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the mayor’s mansion, her eyes wide. 

“You grew up here?”

Henry cleared his throat. “Yeah. It was quiet and boring, though, trust me.”

She reached for his elbow and clutched it as they made their way down the walk. “I’m even more nervous about having dinner with them now that I know who they really are.”

“They can come across as a little . . . intense,” Henry admitted, “but they aren’t the Evil Queen and the Wicked Witch of the West anymore.”

“And Robyn’s Dad was Robin Hood.”

“Yes, but my Aunt, she . . . kind of tricked him into thinking she was Maid Marian.”

Evie stopped abruptly, and he turned to see her shaking her head incredulously. “Don’t take this the wrong way Henry, but your family is really screwed up.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me that. I lived it, remember?”

“And your other grandpa is Rumplestiltskin who married Belle, also making him the Beast, but he also is the one who took your stepdad’s hand, so he’s also the Crocodile?”

He gave her an admiring grin. “You catch on quickly.”

She shrugged, seeming pleased. “Well, they don’t exactly want idiots on the FBI.”

They had reached the door now, and before Henry could even ring the bell, his mother had opened the door and embraced him. She then turned tentatively to Evie.

“Henry called and said he told you everything?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Evie replied, “and though my head’s still spinning a little bit, it’s also kind of . . . an adventure.”

Something about Evie’s expression seemed to make Regina relax her stiff posture and release a breath. “I’m so glad you’re taking this all in stride. I was a little worried . . . “ she trailed off as she ushered them inside. 

“Just as long as you don’t serve her any apples,” Zelena teased as she came out into the foyer to join them. 

“That’s not funny,” Regina hissed.

Zelena rolled her eyes and winked at Evie. “I’ve always been the one with a better sense of humor.”

Evie laughed as Zelena threaded her arm through hers and escorted her into the dining room. As they passed the stairway, Henry noted that heavy plastic still hung from the ceiling. 

“Was the upstairs heavily damaged?” Henry asked his mom.

Regina waved her hand in irritation. “No, it’s just that the work crew isn’t too keen on putting a lot of work into it with the holidays and all. The three of us are going to have to camp out in the den tonight. I apologize for the state of my home, Evie.”

“No need,” Evie assured, as they all took a seat, “I’m honored that you had me over under the circumstances.”

“Well, you need something besides burgers at Granny’s and Pop Tarts,” Regina snarked. 

“Mom!”

“Well, it’s the truth,” his mother huffed.

Henry dropped it as Robyn bounced in with a basket of rolls. “Hey, Evie!” she said as she plopped down beside her mother. 

“ _Hey_ isn’t the proper greeting,” Regina corrected her.

“And don’t slouch, dear,” Zelena added.

Robyn sat up straighter, though she let out a huff as she did so. “Be glad you don’t have two moms,” she told Evie.

“I second that,” Henry laughed, giving his cousin a fist bump.

“Okay, you two, enough of that,” Regina scolded mildly. Then she picked up a spatula and started cutting into the dish in front of her. “I hope you like lasagna, Evie.”

“I love all Italian food,” Evie replied, accepting a helping from Regina. “One of the things I love about New York are the restaurants – especially the Italian places.”

“Well, I hope you like my recipe. It’s famous here in Storybrooke, but this isn’t little Italy.”

Henry had never seen his mom so nervous about her lasagna. She was usually downright cocky about it. Now she was holding her breath and watching as Evie took her first bite.

“I can see why,” Evie told her with a genuine smile, “this is really, really good Ms. Mills.”

“Thank you, and please, call me Regina.” She rose from the table to get the wine, and as she walked past Henry she whispered, “I really like her.”

Henry wanted to clarify to his mom that he and Evie were just friends. He wanted to roll his eyes when Regina winked at him. But honestly? He was pretty sure his feelings were obvious to everyone in town. But were they obvious to Evie?

***************************************************

“So, how bad was it?” Henry asked as they got out of the car at Emma and Killian’s house. 

“Not bad at all,” Evie told him. ”Your Aunt’s a little . . . “

“Insane?”

Evie chuckled. “I was going to say eccentric.”

“How polite of you. Or are you doing that thinly veiled insult thing you say southern women are so good at?” Henry nudged her. “Should I call you Scarlett?”

Evie backed away from him with her hands behind her back, her winter boots leaving tracks in the snow. “Please, if I were a southern literary character I would never in a million years be Scarlett O’Hara.”

“Oh?” Henry asked. “Who would you be then?”

“Scout Finch, of course.”

“Ah, the tomboy.”

“Mhm, and Scout is way more fun. Scarlett would never do . . . THIS!” She punctuated the final word by attempting to throw a snowball at Henry’s head. He doubled over laughing when the snowball burst into a small flurry before it made an impact. Evie’s disappointed pout made it even funnier.

“And like both Scout and Scarlett, you know nothing about making snowballs. Have you ever even been in a snowball fight?”

“Yes!” Evie grumbled, putting her hands on her hips, “We do get snow occasionally back home, for your information.”

Henry gathered up some snow in his mittened hands. “Okay, and how did those go for you?”

Evie glanced away from Henry. “Kind of . . . the same way that first snowball I threw. But I thought it was just because the snow was . . . mostly ice and mud.”

“That’s pitiful, Scout Finch,” he said as he continued to work the snow in his hands, “because the key to a good snowball is to pack it really well. See?”

He waited until Evie had drawn close to see his snowball, then he grabbed her and shoved the snowball down the back of her shirt. She drew in a sharp breath at the sudden cold, then screamed as she danced around to dislodge the snowball. 

“You are going to _so_ pay for that fairy tale boy!”

“That’s a horrible nickname,” Henry laughed nonchalantly as he worked at another snowball. Evie was gathering up snow, but he wasn’t worried. She still wasn’t packing it hard enough as she ran for him. But instead of throwing a fistful of loose snow like the last time, she leapt towards him and smashed it in his face. He sputtered to get the snow out of his mouth and blinked his eyes. Evie was already sprinting away from him as she laughed, and he took off after her. Soon they were slipping and sliding all over the snowy lawn as they threw snowballs and stuffed other ones down each other’s shirts. By the time they made it inside, they were breathless with both exertion and laughter. 

They stomped as much snow off their boots in the mudroom as they could, then peeled off their snow encrusted coats, hats, scarves, and mittens. Henry found a drying rack in the laundry room, and they draped all their wet outer wear over it. 

“My clothes are soaked too!” Evie said with a half moan/half laugh.

“Me too,” Henry said, rubbing at his wet hair. His nose and ears were numb too. 

Evie shivered as she rubbed at her arms. “I want nothing more than my warm pajamas.”

“And a pile of blankets,” Henry added as they made their way towards the stairs. The house was quiet, and his parents had turned off the Christmas lights. It seemed everyone else was already in bed. 

They made their way as quietly as they could to the attic, and then Evie grabbed her pajamas from the end of the bed and dashed into the bathroom. Henry peeled off his wet shirt, then struggled out of his soaked jeans. Even his boxers underneath were wet. He hurried into fresh ones as well as a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. Then he draped his wet clothes over the radiator. He had just finished up when Evie came out of the bathroom. He turned towards her, and what he saw caused the breath to rush out of his lungs. 

It took his mind back to that summer. Evie had come across the hall in a tight little black dress, the back half undone. She was red-faced and irritated that she couldn’t reach the damn zipper. To say it was a little dress didn’t really convey how short it was. It was for work, some undercover thing, and her legs had been on gorgeous display. 

Just like they were now. She was standing there, the light from the bathroom spilling around her, in nothing but her pajama top. It was the same button-up flannel thing she had been wearing all weekend with the little snowflakes all over it, and it hit the top of her thighs. Nothing overtly sexy, but a complete turn on all the same. 

“I - uh – forgot to grab the bottoms,” she explained, tugging at the hem of the shirt. He moved towards her, unable to speak. “Henry?”

Her hair was down, the ends slightly damp and curling slightly. It was hanging over one shoulder, and the side of her neck that was exposed drew his attention. He reached up and tucked a stray hair behind her ear, then drew his finger down the skin just behind it. She drew in her breath a little, but didn’t speak or pull away.

“Do you remember that day you came over and asked me to zip up your dress?”

She nodded. His gaze shifted to her eyes, which were watching him intently. 

“You turned away from me, gathering your hair up off your shoulders. I felt like I was some bumbling teenager as I worked the zipper. I noticed this freckle here,” he bent and kissed the one behind her ear, “and the one here,” he kissed another on her neck, then he pulled back, his nose brushing hers. “I saw freckles on your shoulder blade, right next to the strap of your bra. I even noticed a cluster on the back of your right knee. And I wondered just how many you had and what it would be like to count them all and kiss every single one.”

She still didn’t speak as he pressed a kiss to the freckles on her nose. “One,” then he kissed each cheek, “two, three,” he kissed her forehead, chin, and each eyebrow, “four, five, six -”

“Henry,” she breathed as his lips hovered over hers, “there are a lot more than six freckles on my face.”

“Oh, you’re right. I missed one here,” he brushed a kiss against a freckle just below her lower lip.

He grinned when her breath hitched. He wasn’t sure who moved first, but then their arms were around one another as their lips moved together. He cupped her face as he swiped his tongue across the seam of her lips, and she parted for him on a sigh. Evie slipped her hand up the back of his shirt, running her fingertips along his spine. He broke away from her lips and kissed the freckles at the hollow of her throat. She let out a moan as his lips drifted lower, his nose nudging aside the neckline of her shirt. Then he was undoing the buttons, and he glanced up to see her eyes closed, her head tilted back. He took his time kissing each and every freckle as he undid the first button, then the second. He felt her tremble slightly when he exposed her breasts.

“Henry,” she moaned, “maybe we should . . . “ 

Her words were contradicted by the way she dug her fingers into his hair. And maybe they should have paused and considered what this meant for their relationship, but by the time Evie’s shirt hit the floor, neither of them were considering anything other than the way their bodies reacted to each other’s touch. 


	7. Snow Globe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Another chapter that justifies the M rating, and it's Henry, so . . . be prepared.   
> *This is also where the angst begins, so buckle your seatbelts!  
> * You may have noticed that each of the chapter titles is a Christmas song. This one is probably a little obscure. It's a song by Matt Wertz. I don't even know who he is, honestly, but they play this song on the radio station my kids and I listen to. It's super cheesy, even my kids think so, and it's peppy fluffiness clashes with the angst of this chapter. However, the title and even the lyrics fit the idea of Henry's crazy life. You'll understand I think after you read the chapter.

Henry slept better than he had the entire time he’d been back home. Partly because the guest bed was far more comfortable than his old futon and partly because his activities with Evie left him thoroughly spent in the best way. He had fallen asleep with her in his arms, and he was pretty sure the loss of her soft curves pressed against him was what had awakened him now. The bed was also creaking with her movement, and he rolled over to see her swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her hair, beautifully tousled and wavy, fell over one shoulder, leaving her back bare. He slid over to slip his arm around her waist and press kisses to her shoulder blade. The sun was just peeking through the window, so he knew it was early. 

“Where are you going?” he whispered against her skin. He ran his hand down her spine. “Waking up to this sight makes me realize how many freckles I missed. I didn’t explore your back.”

“Henry,” she sighed with a hint of irritation. Yet she leaned back into him anyway and came willingly as he pulled her back down and into the circle of his arms. She shuddered as he trailed kisses down her back, his fingers tracing her freckles. 

“You know this can’t go anywhere,” she said, turning in his arms with her eyes shut tight.

Henry felt as if he’d gotten emotional whiplash. Had he been misreading her all this time?

“Look at me,” he whispered as he traced her cheek with his fingertips. Reluctantly, she did as he asked, and he felt his heart stutter at those beautiful, mysterious eyes of hers. “If you think this was some friends with benefits fling, you’re wrong. That's not me.’ 

She gave him a tremulous smile. “I know that.”

He let out a relieved breath. “Good.” He swallowed down the nerves that came before he spoke again. It was risky, but she had to know. “And to be completely clear – I love you, Evangeline.”

Her face crumpled, her eyes suddenly welling up with tears. She looked as if he’d just given her horrible news. “You think you do – now.”

His brow furrowed. “My feelings may have crept up on me, but I’m one hundred percent sure of them now. So sure, that I’ll say it again. I love you.” 

Henry pressed a kiss to her lips just to emphasize his point, and for a moment, she kissed him back, even wrapping her arms tighter around his neck as he rolled her onto her back. But then she pulled away, somewhat reluctantly, panting. Her gaze was sad as she cupped his face. 

“Remember when we met?”

He smiled and turned his face to kiss her palm. “Of course I do. To be honest, I was attracted to you from the start, but you were engaged at the time.”

She gave him a smile as she ran a hand through his hair. “And you had just broken up with Grace. When Josh left, you were there for me. I remember you said you had been in a similar situation.”

Henry nodded, unsure where she was going with this. “That’s right. Grace hated New York City. We wanted different things, and she left.”

Evie searched his eyes intently, nodding as if he ought to be putting things together by now. “She wanted to come back home, you said. You grew up together. Now I know what that means. Who is she, Henry?”

“An old friend,” Henry repeated, “you know that.”

She sighed in frustration and gave his chest a slight push. “But who is she, _really_? She’s a fairy tale character, right? Or related to one?”

Henry rubbed his face wearily and rolled onto his back. Talking about their exes wasn’t exactly how he imagined their morning after going. “Her dad is the Mad Hatter, okay? He went back to the Enchanted Forest, and she wanted to go back there too. So we broke up. Met some guy there and is engaged now from what I heard. What’s your point?”

Evie propped herself up on her elbow. “The Mad Hatter? As in Wonderland?”

“Yeah.” 

“And your first girlfriend, Violet, who was she?”

“What is this?” Henry groaned. “Why are you grilling me about my exes? You want to know how many women I’ve been with before we get serious, is that it? Cause let me assure you, I’m a pretty dull guy. One committed monogamous relationship after another. A complete relationship nerd.”

Evie rolled her eyes and shifted closer, propping herself up on his chest. The feel of her breasts sliding against his skin made him want to do anything but talk. 

“Just humor me, please,” she begged him, “I have a point, I swear.”

He sighed, fiddling with her hair. “I just don’t understand why you’re asking about Violet. I was just a kid; it was completely innocent, puppy love.”

“She was your first kiss, though. So where did you meet her?”

He realized he had fudged the real story when he told it to Evie before. Of course, he hadn’t been completely lying. His memories had been erased, so in a way he really did meet Violet by the jukebox at Granny’s.

“At a ball in Camelot.”

Evie rolled her eyes, then flopped onto her back. He was still really distracted by her breasts. 

“Oh, just at a ball in Camelot,” she repeated wryly. 

Henry rolled over to nibble at her neck and cup one of her breasts. She held him close for a moment, sighing at his touch, but then she pushed him away again. 

“Focus, please,” she reprimanded. 

He relented, settling down with his head resting on her stomach. She began to thread her fingers through his hair. She hadn’t told him yet how she felt, but her response to his touch, and her affections despite her third degree spoke volumes. She had feelings for him beyond the physical, he could tell, but she was also afraid. He just couldn’t figure out why. 

“How long did you date Violet?”

He sighed, but answered honestly anyway. “Until I was fifteen. And like I told you, we were young and innocent. And before you ask, her father was the Connecticut Yankee.”

“In King Arthur’s Court? Twain’s stuff is real too?” She chuckled. “Did you also graduate with Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn?”

He laughed as well. “Haven’t met them . . . yet.”

“And after Violet?”

No wonder she was so good at her job. When she wanted answers, she was unrelenting.

“I dated one other girl in high school. She was my date to the prom my junior year, but my senior year we broke up. Mom didn’t like her. I don’t think my other mom and Killian were all that crazy about the relationship either, but they were nice to Ava. They had a similar upbringing to hers, so they understood her better than Regina did. She was also a year older than me, and when you’re sixteen, that can freak your parents out I guess.”

“And who was she? Was Ava her real name?”

Henry sat up and rubbed his eyes. “You promise not to laugh?”

Evie’s mouth quirked up in the corner. She gathered the sheets to her chest and slid up to lean back against the headboard. She lifted one hand.

“Girl Scout’s honor. I won’t laugh.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I don’t think that’s a thing in the Girl Scouts.”

“Hey, I was a Brownie, for your information, and we have honor too.”

He couldn’t help smiling, relieved to see she still had her sense of humor at least. ‘Okay, fine. She was . . . . Gretel.”

Evie’s eyes widened. Then she coughed and quickly clapped her hand over her mouth. Then she removed it, cleared her throat, and asked, “As in _Hansel and Gretel_?”

He saw the sparkle in her eyes. “You swore you wouldn’t laugh!” he exclaimed. 

She schooled her features, though her lips kept quirking upward. “Do I look like I’m laughing?”

“Maybe not on the outside.”

She cleared her throat and made a big production of smoothing down the bedsheets. “Okay, so you lost your virginity to the chick that shoved a witch into an oven. Got it.”

“How did you know that I . . . “

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Your parents didn’t approve? She was older than you? Come on now, Henry, I can put two and two together.”

He rolled his eyes, then reached out to gather her in his arms. Evie frowned, almost looked like she might cry, but she let him hold her close. He kissed her hair and rubbed her shoulders. 

“What is all this about?” 

She turned her face into his neck, and he ran his fingers through her hair. 

“Have you dated anyone who wasn’t from . . . there?”

He pulled her away from him slightly so he could look into her face. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek. 

“Why do you -”

“Just answer the damn question.”

He sighed. “If you’re asking if I’ve ever dated anyone truly from the Land Without Magic . . . no, I haven’t.”

“See?” she asked, her lip trembling. “You say you love me, but what happens when you go on some adventure and meet Cinderella or something?”

“Ella runs the day care center and is married with two kids.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. You’re the grandson of Prince Charming, for heaven’s sake! You’re from a world of destined soul mates and true love’s kisses. There’s probably some princess out there under a curse that you’re supposed to go rescue or something. I’m a nobody, Henry. Just an ordinary girl who grew up in an ordinary suburb of Atlanta. Trust me, my dad’s into genealogies. I’m nothing magical or special.”

Tears were tracing down Evie’s cheeks now. He tried to pull her to him again, to kiss her and tell her she was wrong, but she fled from the bed, from him. She grabbed her clothes and went to the bathroom, almost slamming the door behind her. He heard the click of the lock, and a sound that he thought might be a sob. He followed, knocking at the door, and begging her to open it. 

“Go away Henry.” 

He pressed his forehead to the door, and spoke in a voice loud enough for her to hear, but gentle enough to convey his feelings. “I will, for now, but I love you Evangeline Crawford, and I’ll keep telling you that until you believe it. Until you believe how special you really are.”

**************************************************

Henry hadn’t expected Evie to be able to ignore him so thoroughly when they were staying in the same house and sharing a room, but she seemed to be just as tenacious in this as she was with anything else. Even here, at Granny’s annual Christmas Eve party, she had skillfully avoided him. It got to the point that Henry started to feel like a pathetic puppy in his attempts to follow her around. So now he sat in a booth at the back of the diner, nursing a beer as he watched another cluster of Storybrooke residents surround Evie. She was a bit of a celebrity at the moment, as word had gotten around that Henry had told her the truth about everything. She was the first outsider since Tamara and Greg, which definitely increased the aura of mystery surrounding her. At least he hoped it was mystery. He knew his hometown well enough to know that it could still be fear and suspicion too.

He watched Evie’s expression over the rim of his mug. He hated that she looked a little overwhelmed. As he lowered the beverage with a sigh, his stepdad slid into the booth across from him. 

“So, my boy, care to explain what’s going on with you and your fair lass?”

“She’s not _my_ anything,” Henry grumbled, taking another swig of his beer.

Killian arched a brow at him. “Seems to me you’ve been emphasizing this entire time that she’s _just MY friend_. If I were a betting man, I would say that something has happened to change that label?”

Henry narrowed his eyes. “You _are_ a betting man.”

“Were,” Killian corrected, pointing a finger in Henry’s face, “and don’t change the subject. I’m quite perceptive, you know.” 

He tilted his head, and Henry squirmed. A slow smile spread across Killian’s face as he leaned back in his booth. Henry tried to cover his sudden blush with another swallow of beer. 

“Just as I thought.”

“I’m glad my angst is so amusing to you,” Henry snapped. 

Killian’s gaze went from teasing to sincere. “Listen to me, lad, in my experience, when a lady runs it means her feelings run deep.”

Henry deflated. “How did you do it, Killian? How did you get past Mom’s walls?”

“With patience,” he answered softly. “I was in it for the long haul, and I knew I had to earn your mother’s trust by letting her set the pace.”

“But what if she thinks a future is impossible? That we’re just too different.”

They both knew he wasn’t talking about his mother anymore.

“And you think Emma was any different? Who could be more different than a villain and the savior? A pirate and a princess? Captain Hook and the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming?” He leaned over and grasped Henry’s shoulder. “I told your grandpa once that your mother and I were no fated love story. We had to fight for our love. We fought, and we won. When your mother saw I would never give up on us, she knew she could trust me with her future, no matter what it brought.”

Henry nodded firmly, encouraged by his stepdad’s words, but then he frowned. “But how do I convince her when she won’t even look at me?”

Killian winked. “When a woman cares for you, and you truly honor and respect her, she’ll seek you out. Just be sure you make yourself available; that your right there when she needs you.”

Henry nodded. He still wasn’t completely sure how he could strike that balance, but he could sure as hell try. 

“Henry,” Emma’s voice interrupted their conversation. Killian tensed, his eyes wide with concern. 

“Emma, love, why aren’t you still in the booth with your parents?” He rose and helped his wife settle in next to him. 

“Sorry,” Emma said with a sigh, reaching over and squeezing her husband’s hook. Then she turned to Henry, “I just saw Evie kind of getting surrounded over there, and I was wondering why you weren’t coming to her rescue.”

“Um . . . “ he was now squirming under his mother’s gaze. 

“Oh,” Emma suddenly said, exchanging a knowing glance with Killian, “I see.”

“Seriously, Mom, you too?”

“Henry,” his mother said gently, taking his hand, “whatever is happening between you too, you can‘t let her keep you at arm’s length right now. The dwarves, Granny, and Belle are all over there trying to convince her she’s actually a fairy tale character.”

“What?” 

Emma nodded. “They’re giving her the third degree, and she looks a little lost. She may need you, despite whatever fight you’ve had.”

“We didn’t have a fight,” Henry countered.

Emma seemed to be fighting a grin as she glanced at Killian again. “Hmm, so it’s like that then.”

“She probably told him it was a one-time thing,” Killian quipped. 

“Silly girl,” Emma giggled. “I should warn her that those are famous last words.”

Killian bent and kissed her then, and Henry groaned as he quickly exited the booth. “You two are nauseating.” 

His parents just continued to laugh (and kiss) as he stood. But before he could reach the crowd that had Evie surrounded, she turned and practically fled out the door. He felt the curve of Killian’s hook nudge his back. 

“Go to her lad.”

At his stepdad’s words, he looked back down at the booth. His mother was nodding her encouragement. Henry squared his shoulders and strode towards the door. The bell above it jingled as he opened it and stepped out into the frigid air. Evie stood standing in the gently falling snow, her arms wrapped around herself, her face tilted slightly upwards. Her auburn hair fell in soft waves down her back, one side pulled off her neck with a silver and gold clip. Her black dress was cinched at the waist with a gold belt, and the skirt flared out, its black tulle outer lining embroidered with sparkling gold thread. Several gold bangle bracelets tinkled at her wrists, and she wore gold ballet flats on her feet. The dress hit her at the knees, but her toned calves were still enough to make his thoughts go in a heated direction, especially remembering them tangled up with his in the early hours of dawn. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

She shivered, and he realized that the gold shawl draped over her bare shoulders was doing little to shelter her from the cold. He stepped up behind her, shedding his sports jacket, and draped it over her creamy shoulders. He stepped closer, his chest brushing against her back, his lips ghosting across the top of her head, but he refrained from doing anything more intimate. He gave her arms one quick rub with his palms, then stepped back to give her space once again. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, turning to him. Her dress brought out the gold flecks in her eyes, and he couldn’t stop staring. 

“Giving you my jacket. You’re cold.”

She tore her gaze away, then nodded over his shoulder. “Look behind you.”

He turned and saw a small crowd gathered at the window of Granny’s, among them the proprietress herself and half the dwarves. They scrambled off in a way that wasn’t remotely subtle when they glimpsed Henry looking their way. He sighed. 

“Kind of like being in a fish bowl, isn’t it?”

Evie pulled his jacket tighter as she gazed up at the sky once again. “A snow globe’s more like it.”

“Mhm,” he agreed stepping close again and brushing snow from her hair, “I apologize. After the curse broke, and everyone realized my real mother was the savior, well . . . let’s just say they suddenly all believed themselves personally invested in my life. It’s been unfair, and honestly way too much to live up to.”

“Is that why they were all so intent on discovering my supposed _true fairy tale background_? To see if I’m worthy of you?” 

He sighed, his hand still playing with her hair, “Ignore them. I love you just the way you are, and I don’t care where you came from.”

She said nothing for a moment, but turned away from him. He thought she might walk away completely, but she stopped at the patio awning. She leaned her head against it as she gazed up at the stars.

“It’s a beautiful night tonight,” Henry said softly as he came to stand by her side. “The moon is full.” 

“Not quite,” Evie commented, “but I noticed it was the other night. It was beautiful, and so incredibly close.”

Well, that explained the wolf Killian had mentioned to Evie when he went to dig out the snow plow. Ruby must have been out that night in wolf form and getting into mischief. He didn’t mention that to Evie, though. She had enough to process without the news that Little Red Riding Hood was actually a werewolf.

“Evangeline was the star that Tiana wished on in the movie _The Princess and the Frog.”_ Evie turned her gaze on Henry. “That’s one theory on who I am. A star that was cursed to be born a human in the Land Without Magic.”

Her voice was laced with sarcasm. He drew closer to her. “Evie, I’m so sorry. Just ignore them -”

“But that wasn’t the only possibility. According to Belle, there’s a Longfellow poem that could be about me. Of course, it’s based on a Cajun legend, so Granny thought they might both be me. A star, and a legend. Now talk about lot to live up to . . . “

“Evie,” he said softly, going to stand in front of her and placing both hands gently on her shoulders, “I don’t need you to be a star or some kind of legendary character. All I need is you.” He pulled her close, and he counted it as a small victory when she relaxed in his embrace. “Besides, I was an English major at NYU, remember? I read that poem, and believe me, I don’t want it to be you. That Evangeline wanders in search of her lover, and doesn’t find him until they’re both old. Then he dies in her arms.”

Evie pulled back, and he smiled to see a teasing grin on her face. “Hello, Henry, spoiler alert? What if I was planning on reading that?”

He chuckled, and then bent to kiss her. She stopped him, however, with a finger to his lips. He opened his eyes, which had fluttered closed, to give her a confused look. 

“Snow globe,” she told him simply, cutting her eyes to the side. 

He groaned when he saw his Grandma Snow and Belle peering at them through the window. His grandmother made a big show of scrambling away, yanking Belle with her. He turned back to Evie, but the moment was lost. She stepped away from the awning and onto the sidewalk. She shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to him. 

“I - um, saw that there was a flight in the morning out of Portland direct to Atlanta. I was thinking I’d take it.”

“Evie -”

“The only reason you brought me here was because I couldn’t get a flight out. Now I can.” She shrugged as if it was nothing, but the tears glistening in her eyes said otherwise. “I think it’s for the best.”

“Don’t,” Henry said, unable to keep the edge out of his voice, “don’t push me away. I don’t want the damn jacket back, and I don’t want you to leave.”

She hugged the jacket to her chest, wrapping herself protectively. “I also had a pretty interesting conversation with your Grandfather Rumple. Or a lecture was more like it. He said his son threw his life away by choosing the Land Without Magic, and he hated to see you do the same. Said you were running from your destiny.” She tilted her head to the side. “Seems you left out one little detail about your fairy tale life, Henry Mills.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

She marched towards him again. “You led me to believe you were just descended from storybook characters. But me, you said, I’m just a regular guy, you said.” The green in her eyes over took the gold now, deep and stormy. She poked him in the chest with one finger. “You’re the author, and while I don’t fully understand what all that means, the Blue Fairy and Rumple very snootily informed me that it had something to do with you being chosen. Something about a magic pen and the consequences of not wielding it right?”

“Evie, I can explain -”

She lifted a hand to cut him off. “I know you aren’t trying to toy with my feelings. We probably didn’t set proper boundaries in our friendship. We had both just gotten our hearts broken, and we shouldn’t have found comfort with each other.” She pressed her palm to his chest. “You deserve so much more than me, Henry.”

Then she gave him a tiny shove and hurried away down the snowy sidewalk.


	8. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The angst isn't over yet! This is a rough chapter, I'll be honest, but at least it's short.  
> * This chapter also may have a lot of people pissed at me. Listen - this is a story about Henry, from Henry's point of view. Just think for a second all the crap he went through as a kid. Think about how he was treated at times. There's plenty of angry feelings to go around, and Henry unloads on almost every member of his family here (not to their faces mostly, but still). So if you're one of those people who sees your one beloved character through rose colored glasses, well, be prepared to be mad at me. Evil Regals, Ugly Ducklings, Hookers, and Dearies, you may all have reason to be upset after this one. Having said that, I'm hardest on Rumple, so Dearies may want to skip this. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Henry could have easily caught up with Evie long before she got back to his parent’s house, but he first stood there in Granny’s patio like an idiot. Then he went back into the party, unsure what more he could say, what more he could do, if she was so set on leaving. But the more he tried to make small talk with half the town, the more irritation and anger rose up in him. He’d always been the town’s sweet, innocent, Henry. The wide-eyed boy who saw the best in everyone and had the heart of a true believer. In some ways, in their eyes, he would never grow up. 

When one of the princesses – Aurora maybe? - clucked her tongue at him drinking a beer, wondering where the time went, he almost lost it completely. What did these people know about the passage of time? He was probably rude, slamming his beer down and mumbling about needing air, and he was pretty sure his Grandma admonished him on his way out the door, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about the cold or the snow or the slippery sidewalks. His mind was on one thing and one thing alone. 

Evie startled when he burst into his attic bedroom, dropping a shirt she’d been folding into her open suitcase. She was still in her Christmas dress, though her ballet flats had been kicked off beside the bed. He strode across the room until he was invading her personal space to such a degree she turned and backed herself into the edge of the bed. He encroached further, and she plopped down on the mattress with a yelp. Her eyes were wide as she gazed up at him.

“You wanna know about being a normal kid in this messed up town? Do you? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be the only one who ages? The only kid who moves up a grade each year, and nobody but you seems to notice? I watched everyone in this damn town do the same damn thing day after day after day, and do you know what my mom said when I brought it up? She told me I was crazy. She put me in therapy. _Therapy_ Evie.”

Evie’s lips trembled, but he didn’t stop.

“My mom used magic on me, sometimes against my will. You can’t comprehend how that can mess you up. She and Rumple almost killed my family numerous times. I would look into Rumple’s eyes, my own grandfather, and see rage and fear there. I wondered if he wanted me dead.”

“Henry,” Evie whispered, “I’m sorry, I -”

“I’m not finished. I was put under a sleeping curse that I’m still not completely over. Some nights I wake up in a burning room, and it’s not in my head. I’ve yanked out my own heart, been shut up in Pandora’s box, been chased by flying monkeys, been marked for the Underworld by the man I loved as a father. Then I watched my mom drive a sword through that same man’s heart.” He pointed at his forehead and tapped. “I’ve got a whole other life in here that feels real even though I know it isn’t where my birth mom raised me. Which always made me wonder, did she really give me up so I could have a better life? Or was it because she was afraid to keep me?”

Henry pressed his eyes together as tears gathered. He reached out and grasped Evie’s face and pressed his forehead to hers. “There’s so much,” he whispered brokenly, “that I don’t say because I don’t want to hurt my family. So much anger, if I’m honest.” He opened his eyes and saw her through a watery haze. “You think I need someone from the fairy tale world, but you’re wrong. I need someone who sees me as just Henry. Not as anyone’s son or grandson. Not as the author or the truest believer. I need _you_ Evie.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when Evie captured his mouth in a desperate, hungry kiss. Henry responded in kind, hoisting her farther up onto the bed and sending her suitcase clattering to the floor. Where the night before had been slow and tender, this was frenzied and rough. Evie made love to him aggressively, as if she could force away all of his pain. And when it was over, and he struggled to catch his breath, he believed with all of his heart that she could do just that. So many nightmares plagued his dreams, but if he could just share the burden with the woman in his arms, he just might survive. 

The next morning it was cold sheets and empty arms that awakened him instead of Evie’s movements. His eyes scanned the room as he whispered her name, but the bathroom door stood open and dark. Evie’s suitcase no longer lay upside down on the floor, its contents scattered. Her dress no longer dangled from the edge of the chair in the corner where she had tossed it the night before. 

She was gone.

A note on his nightstand bore his name. He rubbed his eyes and read it:

_Dear Henry,_

_I’m sorry. I know I’m being a coward, but I couldn’t bear to tell you goodbye. I watch you sleep as I write this, and you look so content. All the things you told me last night broke my heart. Sleeping with you again was probably a mistake, but I was weak. I’m sorry for hurting you, but out there somewhere is your true love. How can I keep you from that? Please have a Merry Christmas. For me._

_-Evie_

_PS please give the other note to your parents._

Henry squeezed his eyes shut as the notes fell from his hand. Last night, he had felt so sure that Evie knew they belonged together, had thought the way she made love to him was her way of telling him she would be by his side. When all along she had only been telling him goodbye. 

He turned his head to look at his cell phone lying on the nightstand. It was a quarter to six in the morning, and it was a two-hour drive to Portland from Storybrooke. There were no buses, taxis, or ubers in Storybrooke, so how did Evie get a ride to the airport? Henry grabbed his phone, anger pressing on his chest as he selected the contact he needed. As it rang, he struggled into his boxers, then paced the room agitatedly. 

“Henry, my boy,” Rumple’s voice came over the line, “why the early call?”

“Cut the crap, Grandpa, I know she’s with you.”

“Who?”

Henry massaged his temple, the hand clenching the phone shaking with anger. “You know exactly who I’m talking about. Evie told me that you lectured her at the party with a bunch of crap about my destiny -”

“Crap you say? Funny, last time I checked, I’m able to see the future.”

Henry snorted. “Funny that your supposed gift has never helped any of us. At. All. So excuse me if I’m skeptical that you have any insight on my love life. Now put Evie on the damn phone.”

“Unfortunately, your Southern belle is already heading to her flight. I dropped her off at the curb fifteen minutes ago and am already heading back to Storybrooke.”

“Why the hell did you do that?”

“She wanted to be with her family for Christmas.”

Realization dawned. “It was you who told her about the flight.”

“Henry, I’m only trying to protect you and the rest of our family. The Land Without Magic has never brought anything but trouble. You living in New York is already distracting you from your destiny as the author, so I was eliminating another distraction. Be thankful I didn’t do so with my darker impulses.”

Henry pressed a trembling hand to his face as tears slipped down his cheeks. “I hate you,” was all he managed to get out before tossing his phone onto the mattress. “Merry Christmas,” he grumbled to the empty room. 


	9. All I Want For Christmas is You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting down to the end of this fic! This chapter has no Evie, but plenty of CS and Jones family fluff. You'll also learn a bit more about the CS baby on the way.

Henry had barely calmed down from talking to his Grandfather when little Charlie came bursting into the room. 

“Henry, Henry! He came, he came! Santa came!”

He caught Charlie as the little boy launched himself into his arms. The boy weighed next to nothing, his small frame consisting mostly of gangly limbs. Killian said Charlie looked a lot like him at that age which made Henry understand a little better why the elder Liam Jones had been a bit overprotective. Charlie was also an introspective little boy, spending the majority of his time building Lego creations and drawing with his crayons. Henry would never in a million years tell Hope or Leia, but he felt a kinship with Charlie that was deeper than with his sisters. 

“Santa came? What did he bring you?”

“Dunno,” Charlie shrugged, “Mommy wants us to all go downstairs together.”

“So she sent you to get me?”

Charlie nodded enthusiastically, his green eyes sparkling eagerly. Henry chuckled and set him down on his feet. He grabbed the note for his parents from Evie just before Charlie yanked on his arm and pulled him towards the door. The rest of the family was gathered and waiting at the top of the living room stairs. Leia, the least patient of the children, was running circles in anticipation and practically flinging herself against the walls. Hope had her arms around her mother with her head leaning against her shoulder, and Henry noticed for the first time that Hope was almost as tall as Emma. His mother frowned at him. 

“Where’s Evie?”

He couldn’t stop the crestfallen expression from his face as he handed the note to Killian. His stepdad frowned in concern as he opened the paper. 

“Dear Mr. And Mrs. Jones,” Killian read, “I thank ya’ll both for your kindness and hospitality.” He paused to smile at the way Evie’s drawl came out even in her note, then continued. “I hate to miss what would surely be a wonderful Christmas in your home, but I was able to find a flight to Atlanta from Portland early this morning. I miss my own family, so I couldn’t pass it up. I hope you understand. Merry Christmas, Evangeline Crawford.”

“Well,” Killian said as he folded the note, “I certainly don’t blame her for the chance to spend Christmas with family.”

“Of course not,” Emma added softly, reaching for Henry’s hand. But as his mother squeezed it, he could tell from the look in her eyes that she knew there was more going on. 

“But we bought her presents!” Hope protested. 

“You did?” Henry asked, surprised.

“Of course,” Hope replied, rolling her eyes. “We couldn’t have her sitting by the tree this morning with nothing to open. Grandma and I ran to the store as soon as we knew she was coming.”

Henry reached out and gave his sister a hug. “That was very sweet of you.”

“Can we go see what Santa brought _now?”_ Leia begged, her hands fisted at her hips. 

“Pleeeease?” added Charlie, who was poised on the tips of his toes on the top step. 

“Alright,” Killian chuckled, “go see what loot is beneath the tree, scallywags.”

Emma rolled her eyes at her husband’s exaggerated pirate speak as the kids cheered and raced down the stairs. The adults followed to find all three youngsters jumping up and down with excitement at their gifts. In the Jones home, just as when it was just Henry and Emma, Santa left his gifts unwrapped underneath the tree. Hope was already climbing aboard her shiny new bike with sparkly purple tassels. Leaning against the bike was a pair of perfect, white ice skates. Charlie had donned a pair of Spiderman web shooters and was already pinging his twin sister in the head with foam darts. Leia was oblivious, however. She was too enamored with her American Girl doll, the Native American one (Henry couldn’t remember her name) complete with a horse to ride. 

“Daddy!” Leia exclaimed. “Doesn’t she look just like Tiger Lily?”

“She does, princess, exactly like Tiger Lily.”

Emma gave out a small groan as she arched her back, and Killian’s tender smile for his daughter morphed into one of concern. 

“Love, you shouldn’t be on your feet,” he said, hurriedly assisting Emma into the love seat. He pulled over the ottoman and propped his wife’s feet up. “Whale said to elevate your feet as much as possible, remember?”

Henry frowned as something dawned on him. He had been so preoccupied with Evie and her visit, he hadn’t given near enough thought to his mother’s condition. 

“Mom, why aren’t you using your magic?”

Emma lifted a startled gaze to Henry, then exchanged a worried glance with Killian who squeezed onto the love seat next to her and took her hand. Charlie and Leia were still too preoccupied with their new toys to pay any attention, but Hope fell silent. She abandoned her new bike to come and crawl into her father’s lap, setting her socked feet in her mother’s lap.

“You should tell him everything,” Hope told her parents quietly.

“Tell me what?” Henry asked as he sat down on the couch opposite them. They were all so silent for several moments, that it left Henry exasperated. “I don’t know why I didn’t put two and two together. Killian’s been so concerned about you and those stairs. Why not just use your magic? What’s going on?”

Emma shifted positions, and Hope rose to come and sit next to Henry. His sister leaned against his shoulder, and he put his arm around her, waiting for their parents to speak. 

“I haven’t used my magic since my sixth month,” Emma explained. “For some reason, it was aggravating the preeclampsia.”

“Regina looked at your mother,” Killian added, “and she couldn’t figure out a reason.”

Emma looked at her husband and exchanged a weighted look again before she continued. “My pregnancy has been rougher than I’ve let on, Henry. I apologize for keeping it from you. I didn’t want to -”

“Worry me,” Henry finished, his jaw clenching, “you do know that’s a stupid reason to hide things, right?”

Killian sighed, and Emma ducked her head in shame. 

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” she said, “we should have told you.”

Killian squeezed Emma’s hand again. “Your mother is scheduled for a c-section at Maine Medical Center in Portland on January 10th. They have one of the best NICUs in the area while Storybrooke General only has one incubator. Whale thought it was a safer option.”

Henry narrowed his eyes. “But you won’t be forty weeks yet.”

“I know,” Emma admitted, “they want me to make it to 36 weeks and then do the c-section. If they wait any later, I could go into labor on my own, and . . . “

She trailed off, looking to her husband again. Killian finished for her. 

“They . . . aren’t sure the baby . . . or your mother would survive a vaginal delivery.”

Killian said the last part in a half-whisper so the twins couldn’t hear. Henry glanced their way to find them tearing into Charlie’s new Avengers Lego set; they still weren’t paying the adults a bit of attention. He glanced down at Hope, who’s blue eyes were wide and hesitant. She was afraid, as was he. They had explained everything to his ten-year-old sister and not him?

“Hope lives here, and she’s perceptive,” Emma explained as if she could read Henry’s mind. “We had to tell her.”

“But not me,” Henry snapped. He shook his head and ran his hand agitatedly through his hair. He then leveled his mother with a look that brokered no argument. “I’m calling work first thing in the morning. I can work from here the next two weeks.”

“Henry -” 

“You need me!” he argued before his mother could even speak. “Killian has to cover the station, and the kids are out of school for another week. And you shouldn’t be using those stairs at all! We’ll move that guest bed down here to the living room and -”

“I’ve already tried that, Henry, and your mother refused,” Killian interrupted.

“Well I’m staying here until she delivers, end of discussion.”

Emma slouched back into the loveseat. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“And you were wrong,” Henry snapped. “I’m not a kid anymore, and if I want to support this family with my presence, my time, or my money, I’ll damn well do it. I don’t need anyone protecting me from reality.”

Henry was surprised to see Killian smiling at him. “Of course, Henry. I would expect nothing less from a man of your caliber.” And it was then Henry knew that it was completely his mother’s decision to keep him in the dark. 

Emma opened her mouth, whether to apologize again or protest, Henry wasn’t sure because she was cut off by a knock at the door. Killian frowned as he stood. 

“I wonder who that could be. David and Snow aren’t due for another few hours.”

They were all surprised to see Belle standing on the porch. She held an ancient looking scroll in her hand, and her forehead held worry lines. 

“Belle!” Killian exclaimed, his voice pleasant at first. Then he seemed to notice her distressed expression and frowned. “Is everything alright, lass?”

“Yes, it’s all fine, just . . . could I speak to Henry?”

“Of course,” Henry told her over his stepfather’s shoulder. Killian stepped aside and went back to join his other children by the tree. Henry shut the door behind him as he joined Belle on the porch. 

“I came to apologize for . . . well, several things,” Belle began nervously. “First of all, for last night. I didn’t mean at all that Evangeline had to fit in with us story characters. I merely got caught up in books as I so often do. I think she’s a wonderful girl, and I just thought she’d like to know about a poem with her name. That’s all, really.”

Henry’s face softened at her words. He could scarcely think of anyone in Storybrooke as kind as Belle, and he hated that she was beating herself up over something he could now see was a misunderstanding. 

“I know you meant well,” he assured her, “so please, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not just that,” Belle continued. “I know that Rumple took Evie to the airport this morning, and I found out what he said about you being the author. We . . . had a fight about it actually. I’m so, so sorry if Evie left here hurt or angry with you.”

Henry fought to keep his face neutral, and he knew if Killian were hearing this right now, he’d be struggling in the same way. Would this sweet woman ever stop apologizing for her husband? 

“None of that was your fault, Belle, I know that.”

She nodded, then held out the scroll she had with her. “I was going to wrap this and give it to you at the family dinner tonight at Regina’s. But after my fight with Rumple this morning . . . well, I couldn’t wait.”

Henry took the scroll. “What is this?” he asked as he began to unroll it.

“It’s Merlin’s list of all the authors. I found it in the sorcerer's mansion.”

“Walt Disney, Edith Nesbit, L Frank Baum,” Henry continued to scan the list, “Mark Twain, Mary Shelley, William Shakespeare?”

Belle smiled gently, placing her hand on his. “You see now why I wanted so many copies of your book?”

Henry was overwhelmed, and he blinked away unshed tears. “Thank you. But what does this have to do with Grandfather and what he told Evie?”

“Don’t you see? All of these authors lived normal lives here, in the Land Without Magic. They were novelists and playwrights and visionaries. They lived and loved and had families. Rumple sees with his gift that you have a destiny, but he doesn’t see all. And I don’t think that destiny is in some magical realm.” She rolled the scroll back up and pressed it into his hands. “Your destiny is what you make it, Henry, and if your heart tells you Evie is a part of that, then follow it.”

The petite woman reached up on her tiptoes to place a gentle kiss to Henry’s cheek. She left then to rejoin Gideon and Rumple for their own Christmas morning, leaving Henry with so much more than an ancient scroll. Belle had given him the best gift of all – Hope. 


	10. What Are You Doing New Year's?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This is the conclusion of the story. The only thing left is an epilogue!  
> *Trigger warning: premature birth with threat to mother's life in this chapter

Henry leaned on the front porch banister, closing his eyes in defeat after hitting send on his latest text message to Evie. He was pathetic, bordering on desperate. He had sent her ten texts in the last six days and left four voicemails. She had ignored every single one. He checked his phone obsessively, but nothing changed. What was the name of that book? She’s just not that into you?

But as he contemplated his time with Evie, it didn’t seem that way. Every moment they spent together, she returned his attentions and affections. Not just when making love, but even in the casual moments they had spent together. He thought back on all their Hallmark moments: ice skating, the sleigh ride, the snowball fight, and cherished every one. The look in her eyes, the gentlest touch of her hand on his arm, all of it seemed to convey more than friendship. Even when he thought back on their year and a half of friendship, he could see it now in startling clarity. In a way, they had been dating for months without even realizing it. Maybe he had rushed the physical part? Maybe they should have discussed their feelings before jumping in like that? All he knew was that somehow, he had pushed her away. 

Henry heard a car pull up and a door slam shut. He looked up to see Killian walking up to the house with two Granny’s to-go bags in his arms. His deputy badge glinted on his belt loop. He was only home for lunch, and then he’d have to head back downtown to patrol the New Year’s Eve festivities. Killian frowned when he saw Henry’s dejected expression. 

“Everything all right?” he asked him as he set the bags down on the top porch step.

Henry ran a hand through his hair then plopped down on the porch swing, sending it rocking back and forth. “When do you give up?”

“That depends,” Killian said as he eased down onto the swing beside him, “do you love her?”

“With everything I have.”

“And does she love you?”

“I think she does. Or thought she did.” He groaned and rubbed at his chin. “I don’t know anymore.”

“Well, first of all, does she know how you feel?”

Henry chuckled wryly. “Oh yes, I made a complete fool of myself in that regard.”

“Not foolish at all,” Killian corrected, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. “I take it she was less clear in her feelings?”

Henry mentally went over their conversations as well as her note. “She never said she loved me, but she never said she didn’t either. All she kept saying was that it wouldn’t work, that she wasn’t right for me. Like a day would come when I would realize she wasn’t . . . . I don’t know . . . “

“Enough?’ Killian supplied.

“She never said that exactly, but now that you put it that way, it makes sense.”

Killian nodded. “Emma said she was engaged when you met?”

“Yeah, and the guy left her. He never respected her or took her seriously, in my opinion. It’s like he thought her new job and living in New York was just a phase or something. He basically gave her an ultimatum. Either move back to Atlanta with him, or the wedding was off.”

“Selfish bastard,” Killian muttered.

“Exactly.”

Killian nodded. “A broken engagement has to leave a deep wound. I think you’ll have to be a patient man, Henry.”

“MOM!”

Henry and Killian leapt up at the sound of Hope’s scream. When they burst into the house, they froze when they saw Emma sprawled on the stairs, Hope kneeling at her side. Leia and Charlie stood in the living room, clinging to one another and crying. Killian rushed to Emma’s side. Henry felt dread settle in his chest when he saw the puddle on the stairs beneath his mother. No, this couldn’t be happening . . . 

“Killian,” she said in a shaky voice, “my water broke.”

****************************************************

“Evie, I know you’re not answering my texts or calls, but I needed you to know that we had to take my mom to the hospital. Her pregnancy had more complications than she let on, and she’s not supposed to be having the baby yet. She’s supposed to be at a better hospital, and her and the baby are in danger, and I’m just . . . scared, so I called you.” Henry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He’d done that so many times it was probably a complete mess by now. “I thought you would want to know,” he finished lamely and hung up. 

***************************************************

They’d been at the hospital now for six hours. The first two had been spent trying to get Emma life-flighted to Portland, but apparently New Year’s Eve was a crazy time for medical emergencies, and Emma wasn’t a priority case at 34 weeks pregnant. David had punched a wall, and they had to hold Kilian back from launching himself at Whale. Emma had then been rushed back for an emergency c-section, and after two more hours, a pale and shaky Killian had come out to tell them the frightening news: the baby had been born but wasn’t breathing, and Emma had lost consciousness.

“They can’t stop her bleeding,” Killian had choked out. David had embraced him as Henry watched helplessly. Then a nurse had come out, grim-faced, to tell Killian that he probably wanted to be his with wife and child. 

Now David and Snow were on the hard hospital chairs, their arms wrapped around each other. Henry paced the room nervously. No one spoke. Henry heard a vague commotion from the hospital entrance, but he paid it no mind. 

“Henry!”

He turned, unsure if he had recognized the voice correctly. Then he blinked, thinking he was dreaming. But he wasn’t. There she was; Evie, standing in the middle of Storybrooke General. She didn’t speak, just rushed into his arms and held him tight. 

“You came,” he whispered hoarsely against her hair. 

“How could I not?” she replied, her voice muffled against his chest. She pulled back to look in his eyes. “How is she?”

Henry could only shake his head, his eyes welling up with tears. Before he could manage an answer, Killian appeared in the entrance to the waiting room, a relieved smile on his face. Henry ‘s grandparents leapt from their chairs. 

“Is Emma . . . “ Snow asked hesitantly.

“She pulled through,” Killian told them, and Snow practically collapsed with relief in her husband’s arms. “They had to do a hysterectomy to stop her bleeding. That’s what took so long.”

“And the baby?” Henry asked.

“A girl,” Killian told them, his jaw clenching as tears welled in his eyes again. “She’s in the incubator with a breathing tube, but Whale feels confident that she’ll make it.”

Henry pulled Evie to his chest, letting out a long breath of relief. His legs almost gave out beneath him. 

Killian ran a shaky hand down his face. “I need to get back to my girls,” he told them. “Emma hasn’t woken up yet.”

“Of course,” David told him, slapping his back in a brief hug. “We’ll be here when she wakes.”

Snow opened up her phone and messaged Regina and Zelena, who had the other children at their house. Henry looked down at Evie, cupping her face in his hand. 

“I’m sorry I practically stalked you with all those messages.”

She gave him a tremulous smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer you. I left so abruptly, and all you wanted to do was talk. I was a coward, like I said in my note.”

Henry glanced over at his grandparents. “Can we talk privately?”

She nodded, and he pulled her over into an empty hallway. He immediately maneuvered her gently against a wall and pressed his lips to hers. After a long, deep kiss, she pulled back to smile teasingly at him.

“I thought you wanted to talk.”

He ran his thumb over her wet lips. “I do. After I say hello properly.” He kissed her again, feeling her lips curl up into a smile beneath his. 

“I love you, Henry,” she whispered after the kiss, their foreheads pressed together. 

“I know,” he couldn’t resist answering with a smirk. 

She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a nerd, Henry Mills.”

He pulled her flush against him. “And you love it.”

“Yeah,” she said, fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck, “I do.”

“You’re not going anywhere anytime soon, are you?”

She shrugged. “Well, I bought a one-way ticket. I figured I already had a ride back to New York anyway.” She bit her lower lip as if, after all of this, she was still unsure of his devotion. “Was I presumptuous?”

He tenderly tucked her hair behind her ear. “Don’t you know Evangeline Crawford? By your side is the only place I want to be.”

Her smile then was bright. “Good. After all, we are neighbors.”

He ran his hands up and down her arms. “I was thinking we may need to change that arrangement.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked with an arch of her brow. 

“Well, I love you, you love me, you’re at my place all the time anyway.” He swallowed hard. “I know it may seem sudden, but I was thinking . . . well, we’ve sort of been dating for a while without even realizing it, don’t you think?” 

She giggled and pressed her face to his shoulder as she blushed furiously. “Yeah, that occurred to me on the flight.” She pulled back to look at him again. “I had a lot of time to think -”

Whatever she had to say was cut off when Killian’s voice called Henry’s name at the end of the hall. 

“Want to meet your new sister?”

Henry eagerly went to his stepdad, then Killian gestured towards Evie. 

“M-me?” she asked hesitantly.

Killian nodded. “You came all this way, didn’t you?”

Henry extended his hand, and Evie took it, threading their fingers together. They walked in to see a very drowsy Emma looking lovingly into an incubator. When she saw them, she gestured them over with a contented smile. 

“Come closer so you can see her,” she whispered.

Henry and Evie looked down into the incubator at the tiny infant. Even though she had tubes attached to her, she was beautiful. Her tiny hands clenched and unclenched, her perfect tiny head was covered in dark downy fluff. 

“She only weighs four pounds,” Emma told them, sliding her hand through one of the incubator’s openings and taking the baby’s tiny hand.

“What’s her name?” Henry asked.

“We haven’t decided yet,” Killian told them. He shared a glance with Emma.

“What do you think, Evie?” she asked.

Evie gaped, her eyes blinking rapidly. “You’re asking me?”

Emma shrugged. “Just for ideas. We have two other girls, and for some reason, we’re having trouble with this one.”

Evie’s brow furrowed as she looked down at the tiny baby. “What about Charlotte?” she finally suggested softly. 

Emma gave her a tremulous smile. “It’s beautiful. But what if you want it for your own little girl someday?”

Evie shook her head. She placed her hand gently on top of the incubator. “No, for some reason, I just know looking at her. She’s a Charlotte.”

Killian looked over Henry’s shoulder. “You know, I think you’re right.” He smiled as he took Emma’s hand. “What do you think love? Charlotte Jones?”

Emma squeezed his hand and nodded. “Charlotte _Evangeline_ Jones.”

“Oh no,” Evie protested, “you don’t have to do that. I mean, Henry and I just made this official, how do you know that -”

“I just have a really good feeling about this,” Emma insisted, cutting her off. She sighed and slumped back against the hospital bed. 

“Your mother needs her rest,” Killian told him, placing his hook gently on his shoulder. 

Henry nodded, gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek, and Killian a hug. Then he and Evie stepped back out into the waiting room. They found his other mom there with his siblings. The three children practically tackled him and Evie, all talking at once.

“Evie, you’re back!” Leia shouted. 

“Is it true that I have a baby sister?” Charlie asked.

“It’s a girl, it’s a girl, I’m so happy,” Hope exclaimed, yanking on Henry’s arm. “What’s her name? Is mom okay?”

Henry laughed as he lifted both hands to stop the barrage. “Yes, mom’s fine. Yes, it’s a girl, and her name is Charlotte Evangeline Jones. And yes, Evie’s back, and . . . “ he put an arm around the woman beside him “she’s officially my girlfriend now.”

Hope gave him a smug grin. “Called it.”

“Evie,” Regina said as she approached her, “how did you get here?”

“I took a flight to Portland,” Evie answered distractedly as she picked up a squirming, clingy Leia. “Cost me a small fortune, but it was worth it to be here with y’all. Then I rented a car and drove here as fast as I could.”

Regina caught Henry’s eye, and his mind immediately went to the same place hers already had. “But how did you find the town?” he asked. “You yourself noticed it wasn’t on GPS.”

Evie shrugged, settling Leia on her hip. “I don’t know. I remembered that gas station we stopped at, and I guess I just kept driving from there.”

Snow and David approached, their facial expressions conveying that they had come to the same conclusion as Henry and Regina. 

“But the Welcome to Storybrooke sign?” David clarified. “You saw it?”

Evie’s brow furrowed. “Of course I did. How else would I know I found the place?”

“And you’re one hundred percent sure you’re from the Land Without Magic.” Snow added.

Evie laughed. “One hundred and ten percent. My dad has traced our family tree all the way back to the Mayflower.”

“You shouldn’t have been able to find Storybrooke then,” Regina explained. “Henry could bring you here, but otherwise . . . “

“What does it mean?” David asked.

Snow smiled as she came close to Evie, her eyes watery as she cupped the young woman’s face in her hands. “It means your Henry’s true love.”

Evie’s eyes widened, and Henry held his breath. _Way to be_ _subtle_ _, Grandma._

Regina gave a tiny smile herself. “It’s a rare true love’s test, but not unheard of.”

David grinned broadly. “I will always find you. Of course.”

Evie set Leia down on her feet and turned hesitantly to Henry. “Is this true? I shouldn’t have been able to find Storybrooke on my own?”

“You found me, Evie,” he told her softly. Then, not caring that most of his family were watching, he kissed her with all the love that he held in his heart. 


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year's! Here we are at the end of this fic, probably the fastest I have ever finished an MC in my life :) This is just a short, fluffy little epilogue.

**Epilogue: Two Years Later**

Regina’s dining room was wall to wall people, and that didn’t even include most of the kids, who were seated at the kid’s table in the kitchen. Charlotte, affectionately called Lottie by everyone, sat next to her mother so Emma could cut her Christmas turkey into bite sized pieces and helped her with her sippy cup. She was the only child seated at the adult table, since Henry didn’t think Colin counted. 

He looked down at his tiny son, only three months old last week. His heart swelled with happiness, even more so when he looked up to see Evie, her face flushed as she laughed, her hand clasped over her mouth. Emma was laughing too.

“Seriously, Evie’s not exaggerating about her mom,” Emma was saying. “I was about to kick her out of the delivery room myself. What did she say to you?”

Evie rolled her eyes as Emma leaned over Lottie to address her. “I was cursing like a sailor because they were taking forever with the epidural, and my mom says . . .” Evie paused to clear her throat and lay her accent on thicker. “ _Evangeline Crawford, I raised you better. You don’t say such things in mixed company_.”

“Well, you were dropping the f-bomb with every breath,” Henry laughed, “which is not like you.”

Everyone was laughing as they told the story, and Emma even dabbed at her eyes as laughter shook her harder. “She’s allowed to say whatever she wants, Henry, when she’s pushing a seven-pound human out of her vagina.”

“See!” Evie shouted in appreciation for Emma’s defense just as Snow gasped, “Emma!” The royal’s obvious shock at her daughter’s crassness only made everyone laugh harder, and soon even Snow and David were able to see the humor and join in. 

“Will the rest of us ever get to meet your family, Evie?” Snow asked as the laughter faded. 

“Well,” Evie sighed, “they do keep asking. But maybe just one or two of you at a time? I mean, no offense.”

“Hey,” David protested, “they’ve met Killian, and he isn’t exactly subtle with his pirate-talk.”

“I can be subtle!” Killian argued. 

“But it might be hard to explain why Henry’s grandpa looks like he’s only forty,” Regina put in gently. 

“Yeah,” Evie grimaced, “should have thought of that before I talked you up.”

Colin started to fuss in Henry’s arms, and he rocked the baby gently to soothe him. But when he started rooting against Henry’s shirt, he looked up and met Evie’s gaze.

“He’s hungry,” she sighed, taking him from her husband. 

“You don’t have to go,” Zelena protested, “almost every woman here has breast fed a baby.”

“I appreciate that,” Evie said, “but my father-in-law and both Henry’s grandpas are at the table. It’s just too weird.”

She wrinkled her nose as everyone laughed. After she left with the baby, the talk resumed at the table, bouncing from how life was going with Henry and his family in New York to the latest drama with a drunk Leroy at the Sheriff’s station. Suddenly, the chandelier above the table flickered, and the lights on the Christmas tree popped and went out completely. The children let out a chorus of screams in the kitchen, and the adults all gasped then fell silent. 

“What the bloody hell . . .” Killian mumbled.

Henry turned a moment later to see Evie standing in the doorway, her face pale as she held Colin in her arms. 

“Um, Henry,” she told him, “there’s something you need to know about our son . . .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, that's right, Henry's son, being the product of true love, has magic. Nice way to come full circle, I thought. And no - I will not write a sequel! Okay, I say that now at least, lol. You never know with the way my muse works . . .


End file.
